The Maidens of Sherwood
by Diana
Summary: The Sheriff stumbles on an unexpected method to catch Robin Hood, but everyone's plans go awry when faced with a royal visitor.
1. disclaimer :: legal

**Legal stuff/Author's Notes:**

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**Title:** Maidens of Sherwood  
**Author:** Christy  
**Rating:** PG-13 -- possibly subject to change? (mild sexual content & mature subject matter :: violence :: language :: innuendo)**  
Fandom/Pairing:** BBC/America's Robin Hood :: Robin/Marian(Katy), Alan/Regina, Will/Djaq (alluded to), Sir Guy/Rival Interest  
**Disclaimer:** The following productions & characters are not associated with me:  
BBC, BBC America, 2-Entertain, Dominic Minghella, Foz Allen or any of the executives or producers for Robin Hood: the Series; Robin Hood, Much, Alan-a-Dale, Will Scarlett, Djaq, Little John, The Sheriff of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisborne, Lady Marian :: The character(s) of Regina, Katherine, Edmund, Anna & Sebastian St. James, Kenneth & Rodney McClauren & any others _not associated _with the myth or the show are mine & may **not** be used in other fanfic without my exclusive permission :: Although Edmund, Anna & Sebastian are **my **characters, Sherring Cross & the St. James family name & Dukedom of Wrothston was unashamedly borrowed from Lindsey's _Man of my Dreams_ in a 'great-great-ancestor' sort of way. Neither Jonas Armstrong or Joe Armstrong belong to me, though _damn _I wish they did! Do **not** archive or repost without contacting me. Story © :: 2007 Christy Burk.  
**Spoilers:** None that I know of, but this is set roughly around the time of the season 1 finale (give or take a couple weeks). As we move into new season episodes, the spoiler alert may change (though I'll be following the delayed showings of BBC America, so it shouldn't be too big a deal).**  
Summery:** As the Sheriff stumbles across unexpected leverage to use against Robin Hood, the arrival of a royal visitor sends everyone's plans awry.  
**Feedback: **Is a good 85 percent of my motivation to write & certainly 100 percent of my motivation to **post **what I write! So, in summation: **feedback** **very important!**  
**A/N:** This _is _total & utter fanfiction. Which means: I'm liable to completely make my canon up as I go along whilst trying to stay loosely within the canon of the show. I'll try to go for at least a passing resemblance to reality in the Middle Ages, but as it is **fiction **(& mythologically based fiction at that) I'm not going for historical reenactment here. I'm not an authority on the subject & I (much like the show) enjoy a modern 'feel' to my stories. Please don't sweat the small stuff. Also, I do make two major deviances from character that I'd like to denounce here: 1) I _add _some people here who are closely connected to major players, but don't originate from the 'Robin Hood' myth at all. I understand this is a pretty strong exception to make for fanfiction, but I hope you'll like the characters enough that they'll still fit the story, even in such presumptuous roles. 2) I realize that according to the canon of the show, the correct spelling is Allan-a-Dale, not Alan-a-Dale. But for some odd reason, I don't like 'Allan'. Two L's just _look wrong, _I can't explain it. All I can say is they don't fit Joe or the character (in my mind anyway). So, this being my story & all, I'm spelling it as **Alan. **I hope this doesn't throw anyone off or bother them too badly. (/end denouncement)

Christy

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	2. 1 :: Lady Locksley

**:: The Maidens of Sherwood ::**

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_At the end he said, "You are what I'm fighting for. . ."_  
_It was the first of his letters from war_  
_So she started writing,_  
"_You are good & you're brave_  
_What a father that you'll be someday_  
_Make it home -- make it safe. . ."_  
_She wrote every night & she prayed. . ._

/ Mark Schultz -- Letters from War

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1.

Sherring Cross: Wrothstonshire, England -- 1193

"Edmund?"

He paused, hand resting on the polished wood of the balustrade and glanced over his shoulder. It was likely he wouldn't have stopped had it been anyone else but his beloved Anna who spoke. Sir Percival Edmund Rawlings St. James --though he much preferred Edmund to Percival-- the formidable Duke of Wrothston & subsequent Lord of Sherring Cross, was not in the habit of delaying when he was set upon a course of action or listening to advice contrary to his own. But his wife Anna was the one exception to the rule. Her soft voice enabled her to take gentle charge of any situation and it did so now as she came up behind the Duke and craned her elegant blond head to one side as she studied him.

"Edmund, really. You mustn't disturb Regina right now, not until you've calmed down a little."

"Calmed down? How can I possibly be calm?" Sir Edmund spun on the wide, carpeted step where he was standing and jabbed long fingers through his graying hair. Still a handsome man at the age of 45, he hadn't fallen into the ill habits of many of his counterparts by letting himself grow paunchy or rotund. Instead, his physique remained as trim as ever. His turquoise eyes, a startlingly clear shade of color caught betwixt blue and green, snapped with indignation.

"You heard what she said, Anna. She intends to return to Locksley. Locksley of all places! There are all sorts of unpleasant folk in Sherwood Forest now. It's overrun with bandits and thieves; miscreants of the worst sort. She simply cannot go back there. I'll forbid it."

He started purposely forward, but Anna intervened once more. "Edmund, you cannot do that. I know you have only her best interests at heart, but we must allow her to journey to Locksley if she wishes."

"Anna, can't you see I am trying to protect her?"

"Of course you are darling," Anna replied, her voice soothing. "She _dotes_ on you Edmund; we both know that, just as you dote on her. And that's lovely and just as it should be. If you ask Regina not to go, we both know she acquiesce to your wishes. But think of her a moment. She has just received word of Robin's return from the Holy Land and all the subsequent troubles that have befallen him. Whether we like it or not darling, Locksley is her home and we can understand her need to return there, even if it isn't—" Anna hesitated, looking for a delicate word to describe the situation, "—well, _ideal_."

"Ideal? For God's sake Anna, the place is positively reprehensible! It's little more than a crawling morass of outlaws and brigands these days. And the Sheriff at Nottingham seems incapable of restoring any sense of order to the place. I don't want Regina endangering herself by going back there!"

"She'll be alright. Sebastian will escort her on the way and Robin will look after her once she arrives. You needn't worry about her."

"I can't help myself," Edmund mumbled. "She's like a daughter to me -- to _us_. You know how empty the house will be without her. Sebastian isn't ever home anymore except as a midpoint between outings. And it's been so nice having her here with us. I shall miss our breakfasts together, our long talks, and our walks in the garden after tea." He sighed heavily. "Anna, I don't want her to go."

Anna shot him a sympathetic smile. "I know, my love. But she is a grown woman and she has every right to return home." She stepped up until she was on his level and gently took his arm. "Let's have tea and when we are finished, you'll feel much more relaxed. Then you'll be ready to talk to Regina."

And as usual, Anna was right. Edmund did feel far more relaxed an hour later as he ascended the stairs and politely knocked on the door to Regina's room.

"Uncle Edmund!" The door swung open to reveal a small figure of a girl framed in the doorway. Blue eyes studied Edmund and she warmed with a luminescent smile that seemed to fill her whole face. Delight rang in her voice as she continued happily, "Please come in. I was just packing."

Edmund had returned her smile, but now it transformed into a frown as he was reminded of the reason for his visit.

"Thank you m'dear."

He strode into the room and seated himself on an upholstered chair adjoining her vanity table; the only piece of furniture in the room that was not strewn with _something _waiting to be packed into her enormous steamer trunk. Bright frocks were spread across her bed; the settee held various lacy unmentionables and the Duke hesitated to count how many shoes were lined up in neat little rows across the rug. His frown grew deeper, knitting little lines across his brow. Surely she didn't need to take _all _of this with her. She wasn't going to stay at Locksley forever, was she? Just a week or two, exorcise this homesickness from her system and then she'd come back to Sherring Cross where she belonged.

"Reggie, we need to talk. . ." he began gruffly, falling back on his pet name for her. Anna disapproved when he used it in mixed company, but he delighted in calling her that, just as she called him 'Uncle Edmund'. Though he was not really her blood uncle, her late father Sir Hugh of Locksley was one of Edmund's closest friends -- as well as the former Earl of Huntington. His son Robin, now grown, had taken the title upon his father's death. Edmund had always looked upon the two like children of his own and they, as well as his son Sebastian, had all grown up together and remained close throughout the years.

"Of course Uncle Edmund," Regina said innocently. Perching on the edge of her four-poster bed, she ignored the dresses littered across the bedspread and pertly cocked her head to one side. "What shall we talk about?"

_She does resemble Robin, _Edmund reflected with no small amount of amazement. T'was true the two were twins, but the resemblance was still uncanny. It wasn't just in the clear blue eyes they shared or the thick, dark hair that curled ever so slightly at the ends. It was their mutual slight frames, the shape of their faces; that narrow aquiline nose, the firm chin. They even had the same broad smile, almost too wide as if it were trying to make up in sheer size for the small frame that held it. On Robin it looked cocky and boyish, giving him a roguish charm. On Regina, pixyish, like it hinted at mischief not yet accomplished.

"Reggie m'dear," he tried to lead it into it gently, yet wanting to impress upon her his concern for her safety. Anna's words floated back to him from earlier and he silently resolved to himself that he wasn't going command her _not_ to go. Knowing Reggie, she'd obey him but curiosity would make her pine to go all the more. Instead, he'd subtly dissuade her with logical arguments. Then she'd change her mind and he couldn't be blamed for it because, as Anna so often pointed out, a woman has the right to change her mind anytime she liked. This was one occasion where Edmund would be glad that was the case.

"I'd like to talk to you about your trip to Locksley."

Reggie nodded, her pointed chin coming to rest demurely in her cupped hands as she widened her eyes at him. "I'm listening. Please go on."

"My dear, it's been quite a few years since you've been back there. Since Robin went away to the Holy Land which was—" Edmund paused reflectively, "—oh devil take it, at least five years ago."

"Six years ago," Regina put in meekly. She politely took no notice of the language, though if Aunt Anna were present _someone_ would've received a scolding. "He was in the Holy Land for five years and he's been back for nearly a year now." She bit her lip and added in a lower tone, "And I've yet to see him. I imagine he's changed. I received word he was safe -- but not much else."

A pang of guilt shot through Edmund's conscience and he just as quickly squelched it. Well of course the dear gel missed her brother, only natural. But she just didn't realize the dangers involved in getting to Locksley these days. Dangers that he was determined to bring to the fore.

"Reggie, my point is that you _remember_ Locksley fondly. It was your home of course and one can expect you'd have naught but wonderful memories of it. But my dear, you simply don't realize how much it's changed. Nottingham, Locksley, Knighton -- they used to be provinces of the highest caliber. Back before King Richard left, one could travel from shire to shire without the slightest care. But now times are hard. War brings out the veriest of scoundrels and the place is simply overrun with outlaws. Even your beloved Sherwood is disgraced with these lawless men. Oft times you've spoken to me of your girlhood and long walks in the solitude of that very forest. Now you'd dare not walk there freely, lest you catch an arrow in the back for your troubles."

He saw Regina wince and cursed himself silently for being so frank, yet at the same time was pleased his speech affected her so. Little did he know it was not the thought of being shot down that distressed her, but the worry that those same said vandals might be ravaging her beloved Sherwood.

"What has happened to the shire is regrettable," she replied softly. "But nevertheless I must return. It's where I belong. And Robin will need me there."

She began to pace to and fro slowly, each step carefully measured. "I used to write Robin you know, back when he left. I don't know if he ever received my letters, but the point was that I thought about him. And the rare letters he wrote back were each filled with questions -- questions about the heartache he'd seen and the necessity of it. It is fortunate that Much went with him; I think it helped Robin to have that bit of home to cling to. But I still got the impression that he was lonely and lost in the middle of his Crusade. He was only trying to do what was right. But sometimes it's hard to know exactly what that is. That's why he needs me, Uncle Edmund. He needs my support --the support of the only family he has left-- to help him get back to normal life again."

"But it simply isn't _safe_," Edmund pressed. "And I don't want to see you get hurt Reggie."

"I know. But what if these stories are merely exaggerated? We are a long way from Locksley here and you know how gossip grows thicker the longer it travels. Could well be nothing but a few minor incidents blown out of proportion."

"I suppose," his reluctance to concede the point was clear. "Anything is possible. But I've heard most of these stories from reliable sources. And besides I don't think it's worth taking the chance over. What if you were attacked upon your passage through Sherwood?"

"Sebastian will be there," Regina said calmly. "He will protect me."

"He'll certainly strive to, I agree. And Sebastian is quite the Corinthian." Edmund allowed himself a moment here to beam with fatherly pride. "But even my reckless son may be given pause when beset by a whole gang of bandits." He sighed. "I'll send additional guards along of course, but honestly Reggie I do wish you'd give the matter a bit more thought."

"I have given it thought Uncle, but I don't see that I have much choice. Robin needs me. And I need him." She smiled as she rose to her feet and crossed around to kiss Sir Edmund on the crown of his head.

"Now you needn't worry any longer. I shall be just fine. Sebastian won't let me out of his sight as you well know and he is quite capable of handling any rogues who think differently -- in fact, knowing him as I do, I daresay he'd relish the challenge. And anyway it'll be a nice break, to see the countryside again. I've been cooped up here far too long." She waved away Edmund's frown. "Don't take offense; I didn't mean it as a criticism. It's just that Sherring Cross, lovely though it may be, isn't Sherwood Forest. And Wrothston isn't Locksley. I've come to love it here, almost as much as the manor, but sometimes a girl just needs to go home."

Edmund sighed. "Your mind is made up then? You are firmly resolved to this course of action?"

Regina smiled. "Only for a short while." She rose to her feet to resume her packing, then caught Edmund's crestfallen look.

"Nay, don't fret. Perhaps I shall return to find that Locksley no longer agrees with me and Robin is happily married with not a thought towards me a'tall and sends me promptly back here to Sherring Cross." She giggled. "Lady Marian used to reside quite close in Knighton. Perhaps she still does. Ah, you should've seen the way Robin was mooning over her before he left for the Holy Land. He tried to act all casual about it, but I could tell his feelings for her were genuine. They were betrothed as children you know. If Marian was still unmarried when he returned, perhaps I shall be returning to find a new sister-in-law has been added to the family tree."

"I doubt it, m'dear. If they had wed, surely you would've received an invitation to the ceremony and besides it would have to be announced in the banns and we'd be sure to hear about it."

"Perhaps. One would think if Robin had intent to take a wife, he'd at least seek my thoughts on the matter -- even if it was just Marian. But I've not heard a word from him since his return. It's another thing that concerns me." Regina frowned before continuing. "Course, I suppose it makes sense if he has been tied up with wedding preparations. . ."

"It's a situation you might give some thought to yourself m'dear," Edmund commented mildly. "You've had no lack of interested suitors since you came of age and there's nothing Anna and I would like better than to see you happily settled down. Besides, if you were married you'd have no need to go rushing off back to Locksley."

Regina winced, tossing a scarf in her luggage with slightly more force than was necessary. "Thank you, but no. There's still time for that yet. And how you imagine I can get to know any of these so called suitors with Sebastian taking his fists to anyone who looks at me sideways is beyond me. But I have no intentions of becoming a spinster I assure you. The right man will come along. I just have to keep my eyes open, that's all."

She fastened her portmanteau shut & set it on the floor. "At any rate, there is a lot of my past I need to revisit and I can't do that here. I shall miss you and Aunt Anna terribly, but my mind is made up. So please don't worry. Sebastian and Robin will take good care of me, I promise."

"I have no doubt of that Reggie," Edmund replied with a sigh. "But we shall miss you all the same."

"I know. And I'm sorry I can't stay. Would that I could, I'd pack Sherring Cross in a bag and take all of you with me. But I have a feeling that there are surprises and a lot of adventure waiting for me back in Locksley," her eyes took on a mischievous gleam that Edmund knew very well. "And frankly, I don't want to miss a moment of it!"

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	3. 2 :: Royalty Misunderstood

_Wonderful is what I perceived my life would be_  
_Pain & problem free_  
_But over time I found reality & through it all I see_  
_That you're the only one who gets me_  
_I may be misunderstood 'cause I wouldn't ever fake it_  
_But you're the only one who understands my pain_  
'_Cause __you get me_

/ ZOEgirl -- You Get Me

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2.

Westminster Palace: London, England -- 1193

"_Katherine_!"

The word was not bellowed exactly. He prided himself that he would never stoop to act so boorish as bellowing. But the word, spoken forcefully, was laced with anger and definitely louder than John's always carefully cultured tones.

Katherine, or rather Princess Katherine Isabelle Victoria Gwendolyn of England, strode into Prince John's lavish antechambers proudly. Her dress hung in tatters around her and a large, satisfied smile curved across her angelic face. Yes, a princess she was, even if she looked nothing like one at the moment. A princess of England, Prince John reflected with some irritation, and nowhere else. Not that it should be that way.

The youngest of his sisters and without a doubt the most irresponsible, Katherine was still by far the fairest. Blessed with creamy, unblemished skin and fine-boned features, she was exceptionally beautiful and not even her outlandish antics could change that. Though her diminutive form didn't look it, she was athletic and entirely too active for her own good. Her brilliant emerald eyes were clear as crystal and could be called her best feature, if not for her hair. Like Richard's, it was a lighter red than their other siblings; a fiery mix of red-gold that caught the eye with its chameleon color and held one in utter fascination. The sunlight streaming in from the vaulted windows played across her head now and set it ablaze, refracting the gold and illuminating the red to a beautiful two-tonal mass of curls. John regarded it with some jealousy since he, unlike Richard and Katherine, never inherited their mother's fair looks. His were more the color of their father's, a dark red, nearly auburn, which did nothing to improve his ruddy features and thickset physique. It was always irritating to John that they were both his blood siblings, yet he looked so little like them. He didn't cut as handsome a figure as Richard or startle people with his looks like Katherine. Which was probably why Eleanor always favored them over him.

Still, a comely sister was not without its benefits. Feminine children of the royal family were expected to be used to seal alliances with marriage contracts to powerful allies. And Prince John found himself with a bargaining chip worth nearly twice her weight in gold, for even as a child she was lovely and now that she was nearly eighteen, she surpassed lovely and went to downright beautiful. The bids for her had started when she was very young, but unfortunately her three older sisters had to be married first. It was the law. By the time they reached Katherine, she'd come to the conclusion that marriage alliances were barbaric and spent her time devising ways to drive off her suitors. Up until now she'd been successful. Mostly because heretofore all her prevarications had amused his softhearted brother Richard. King Richard adored his little sister and actually encouraged her willful behavior. He was in no hurry to send her off to some foreign court, not while she beguiled him so. John, however, held no intentions of being so lenient.

But Katherine had indulged in her strong-headed ways for so long that it was nigh impossible to curb her impulsiveness. All the methods John had tried so far yielded few results and he was reluctant to beat her for fear of marring her beauty and thus devaluing her. The only threat which carried any weight whatsoever was when he refused her time with Peridan. The monstrous, pitch-black as midnight, thoroughbred stallion was a gift from an Arabian prince and Katherine was smitten the moment she laid eyes on him. She begged for Richard to give him to her and, though the gift was entirely inappropriate for a girl her age and size, Richard could refuse her nothing. Katherine took the necessary training of Peridan to task herself and though the stallion outsized and probably outweighed her trice over, she showed no fear of him. She was even reported to be seen beating a stablehand with a riding crop after she witnessed him doing the same to her horse. It was a memory which John recalled now with a wince. Naturally he hadn't believed the story when he first heard it. A princess behaving so outrageously and with a common serf? Preposterous. Abusing valuable horseflesh couldn't be tolerated of course, and so Katherine doubtless ordered the serf to be flogged – which must have led to the rumor that _she'd _beaten him. But seeing to it personally? And with a riding crop? Hardly. She was a _woman_ after all.

Now, after six years spent in attendance of Katherine during Richard's absence, John not only _believed_ it, he felt a twinge of sympathy for the man who was beaten. Small Katherine may be, but she held enough pent up anger in that tiny frame to put several full grown men to shame. And if not caught in time, John imagined that his miniature sister could do a lot of damage with a riding crop -- moreso perhaps than he could with a sword. He forced back a sigh. Katherine and her black steed were just alike; wild, uncontrolled demons and it made him want to tear his hair out having to deal with them all day, everyday, for three winters past. It wasn't enough that Richard was gone and he had the kingdom to manage; it was frustrating him playing babysitter as well to his sister which _should_ have been married long ere now. Well, that was going to change.

"Katherine," he said curtly, allowing his frown to reveal his displeasure. He extended a jeweled hand slowly, trailing from her tousled head to her disheveled raiment. "What is _this_?"

Katherine took it in a stride, ignoring his reference to her appearance. "It's Katy," she admonished, likewise ignoring his look of disgust for the hated nickname. "Not Katherine. You know how much I hate that name, John."

"_Katherine_," John emphasized with forced composure. "Would you care to explain yourself?"

"I've been riding," she announced innocently, dazzling the room with her smile.

The Crown Prince raised a brow, not about to let her slide by so easy. "So I've heard. Riding across the courtyard -- or should I say _over _the courtyard. Bloody hell, those rose bushes were newly planted!"

"They are only flowers. They will grow back." Katy waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, it was a race."

"Mmm. And did this _race _include you climbing up the portcullis and taking a dip in the moat?"

"Oh I was dared to do that." Her tone contrived to suggest that whereupon being faced with such a dare, _anyone else _would've done the same and she couldn't possibly be held accountable. Prince John pressed his fingers to his temples where a sudden throbbing had sprung out of nowhere -- or possibly stemmed from his now decimated courtyard.

"Mary, Mother of God! Katherine, by all that's holy, _please _tell me there was not someone present to witness all of this—_this_—" John left off helplessly, unable to find suitable word forthcoming. He doubted there was a word in existence suitable to define the scandalous lack of decorum that was Katy—er _Katherine_, least not one that could be said aloud in polite company.

Katy dug her toe in the rug. "I'd rather not say," she said primly. "Anyway, if I tell you, you'll only grow more vexed than you are now so why don't we talk of something more pleasant. What nice weather we are enjoying today My Lord -- wouldn't you agree? Most unusual for this season I should say."

"Katherine! You cannot keep up this—_this_—" John sputtered a second time, rallied and made a comeback, "—unprincessly behavior. It's high time you faced up to your responsibilities as a princess of the realm."

"Must I?" sighed Katy, having heard this argument for about the three hundredth time this week. And it only grew more tiresome upon repetition. Prince John however was in no mood to cross swords with his little sister and he settled back in his throne, gaze hooded like a snake about to strike.

"Just _once_ I wished you'd act like your sisters," he replied with a shake of his head. It was stiff and cold however, as if too much movement would upset the delicate balance of his regal stature. "Matilda and Leanora would never participate in such madness. They, unlike you, know their place."

Katy instantly wrinkled her nose, without the slightest care for how unladylike it looked.

"Ugh! _Please_. The last person I want to emulate is Nora or Maud. They are so -- _dull_. They'd just up and marry anyone because of the way the wind was blowing that day." The distaste with which she spoke made them sound criminal.

"If I was going to emulate anyone around here, it'd be Joanie. She'd the only one worth following in the footsteps of. At least she knows how to have fun -- even if she doesn't very often. When King Tancred tried to keep her prisoner, did she just flutter about, fretting and wailing 'oh dear me'? No of course not. She summoned Richard and the two of them had a jolly old adventure together in Messina & Cyprus." She punctuated this with a sulky kick at the rug under her foot. "And here I was stuck in this dreary old castle and missed the whole adventure. As usual. I do wish Richard had let me go to the holy land with him. At least it'd be something to do."

Prince John sighed. Katherine was referring of course to their older sister, Joan of England, now ex-Queen of Sicily. Ever since their sister returned from Sicily with tales of her imprisonment under the new ruler after her husband's death and being refused her inheritance and to go home to her family, Katherine had begun to look upon her sister as some kind of heroine. Especially since Joan found a way to send a secret missive to Richard, who was already on-route to the Holy Land. Richard, in his typical gung-ho fashion, came rushing to his sister's defense. He demanded her release and the return of her dowry from the ruler who withheld them and as usual backed up his threats with what John felt was unnecessary force. If he'd been there, John thought, he could have handled the situation far more diplomatically, but then Richard was always a brute.

At length however, Richard got his way and Joan was released along with the money. If that wasn't enough adventure however, Joan's ship was blown off-course on the trip to Acre and she was nearly recaptured _again_, before Richard got there to defend her in his overzealous way. John forced back another sigh as he mused to himself that even without Katherine, his family always found a way to cause scandals.

He waved an imperious hand at her now, too frustrated to undertake further chastisement.

"To your chambers," he snapped. "I tire of your schemes. Try me no longer for I shall not bid you again until this evening. We will dine together with the Count of Nevers, Peter of Courtenay. I trust you will behave as a lady should -- not like _last_ _time_."

Though there was a clear threat implied behind the words, Katy merely smiled at him. "But of course, my lord brother. I will be my most gracious self, if it pleases you. Though I admit I cannot see what the fuss was last time."

"You insulted Vice Chancellor Matthew A'jello!"

"I don't see how."

"You asked him if you could go to the privy. Right in the middle of his speech before the whole court of nobles! To the _PRIVY_, Katherine!"

Katy grinned. "I know, but I needed to go. And you know how longwinded he was; why it might have been hours of him droning on and on before I could've gone, so I just expedited the process. Besides, I think the way he just stormed out to pack his bags was quite childish of him. Not very civilized at all."

John glared at her. "You did that deliberately so there would be no discussion of marriage alliances with Sicily. A princess, a _true princess,_ does not mention such delicate matters in mixed company!"

"A princess who needs the privy does," Katy argued logically. "And anyway, I beg you weigh the consequences of what would've happened if I hadn't asked to go. That'd be far _more_ embarrassing in mixed company, wouldn't you agree?"

"It was your _duty _to ensure peace with Sicily. Not that it matters, since the Vice Chancellor will never darken these shores again after the grave insult you handed him."

"That's fair news. Why would I want to marry that tyrant who captured my sister and attacked my brother anyway? Let him rot and his people with him. Good riddance."

"Katherine, I have had just about enough of you," Prince John hissed. Finding his slippered feet, he extended a finger to the door behind her. "Get thee hence before I order you to be in chains for a fortnight."

"Gladly milord. It will give me a chance to work on my embroidery," Katy replied. She skipped blithely to the door, then tossed over her shoulder before exiting, "And it's _Katy_!"

John collapsed back on his chaise once Katherine left, the throbbing in his head grown nigh unbearable. How that girl managed to set his every nerve pounding like a tambourine was beyond his comprehension. But, for God's Sake, he had a plan and she _would_ be married and it couldn't happen too soon, in his opinion. Then she'd be out of his hair forever. He settled back, so pleased by this accompanying thought that he almost didn't hear the guard step into the room.

"Announcing His Lordship, Sir Peter of Courtenay!"

Prince John nodded and the guard stepped back, allowing Sir Peter to enter. John arose and greeted him politely, then indicated for him to be seated. Once the two men were settled and refreshments had been served, Sir Peter led into the purpose of his visit.

"Your Highness, I come on behalf of our mutual benefactor, King Philip of France. Since returning from the Holy Land, His Majesty has become quite disillusioned with your brother King Richard and his ambitions to restore the Holy Land. He is quite in agreement with you that new leadership is needed. He wishes to ally with you to circumvent Richard's return to England and support you in your ascent to the throne. He has sent me to negotiate the terms of the treaty."

Prince John swirled the wine around in his goblet, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. "Yes," he murmured. "I thought he might. 'Tis no secret that His Majesty is a brilliant tactician. He always knows which side to champion. And with my brother Richard set upon martyring himself in the Holy Land, it is no secret which brother is now wisest to support."

Peter nodded. "You will have his full support and cooperation. Providing of course that you are willing to show your loyalty to France and its King in return?"

"Yes, as I expected. I will be granting him 10,000 marks as well as the Angevin lands; Vexin and Berry. Also—," John paused a moment, dropping his gaze so it was hooded from the other man. He tried to settle a sober expression over his features, but it was difficult to hold back the smirk as he continued mock-innocently, "—I understand Philip is displeased with his current wife, Isambour of Denmark?"

Peter nodded again. "Yes. His Majesty has requested that His Holiness the Pope annul the marriage and has been anxiously seeking a new bride whilst waiting for the proceedings to go forward."

"So I have heard. Well you may tell the King that I am also offering the hand of my youngest sister, Katherine of England, in marriage as my pledge of loyalty to France. Perhaps you've heard of Katherine before?"

Peter's jaw dropped. "Why yes—" he stuttered. "Word of her beauty has spread, even so far as to Paris; they say she is comparable to Helen of Troy or the Venus di Milo."

Prince John smiled, curling his fingers tighter around the rim of his glass. "Yes, she is indeed striking. She will be in attendance this evening when we dine and you may judge her beauty for yourself and report to Philip. I trust His Majesty will be pleased with this treaty arrangement?"

"Oh verily, but surely your brother Richard will not allow for this."

Prince John waved the protest aside. "Richard will not be returning to London," he vowed softly.

"May I inquire as to how you know this milord?"

"It is not necessary to go into details. Suffice to say that I have made the necessary arrangements. If Richard is so determined to have the Holy Land, let him remain there. In turn, I shall be watching over _England_, our land, and its affairs. It's high time someone in this family did."

Peter caught the bitterness in John's tone, but chose not to remark on it. "Yes Your Highness."

"Send word to Philip that I shall send Katherine to his court once our treaty is established." John broke off with a frown. He stood and began pacing, hands folded behind his back, his slippers making no sound on the stone floor. "I wish I could send her now," he added wistfully. "It would be nice to have peace in the court once more, at least until the negotiations are complete. And on top of this I still have William Longchamp to deal with, plus I have made arrangements for Isabella of Angoulême to visit me in court. Once I have ascended to Richard's throne, I plan to make her my queen."

"But what of Hadwisa, My Lord? Your current wife."

"She displeases me," John replied tersely. He spun on a heel and glared at Peter. "We've been married five years this Michaelmas and does she give me a son to carry on my lineage? No. Do you think that is behavior befitting a Queen of England?"

"No My Lord," Peter answered wisely. Seeking to turn Prince John's attention elsewhere, he smoothly changed the subject. "Perhaps you can explain your situation to Her Highness, your sister, and thus she will not seek to disrupt your courtship."

John scowled. "My sister is not one who is given to discretion," he said darkly, resuming his pacing. "She is a mite spirited, young as she is and meddlesome. She champions Richard's cause with tiresome fervor and worships him accordingly. If she catches wind of our plans; she may interfere, even so far as to notify Richard in the holy land. She must be dealt with before we can proceed."

"Then I suggest, if it pleases Your Highness, that you send her away but mislead her as to the reason why."

Prince John paused. Glancing across his shoulder, he gazed at other man intently. "Pray continue..."

"Well My Lord, what if you told her you were sending her on a journey or a holiday and prevaricate some reason for it beyond the truth. If you lead her to believe it is a gift for her, will she not be delighted to obey you all the while not knowing she is playing right into your hands?"

A wicked smile slowly curled across Prince John's lips. "A brilliant suggestion," he purred. "As it happens, I am scheduled to make a trip to visit my northern shires -- something I normally despise, but good will and all that. I have been delaying as much as possible for I simply don't have the time available to go. But that would be an ideal solution for Katherine. What with travel time and all, she could easily be gone a full month, possibly two."

He sat once more, pressing his fingertips together. "And when she returns, she will find the court much changed from whence she departed," he smirked. "Not the least of which will be King Philip, preparing for his new bride."

He began to chuckle then, but there was a cruel edge to the merry sound. Peter watched him carefully. It was never a good sign when monarchs started laughing to themselves when nothing amusing was said.

"My Lord, why so merry? Is it because you are happy over your sister's wedding?"

"Nay, though that does please me more than you can imagine. It's simply that Katherine was grousing this morn about going on an adventure. What mockery then that upon the morrow she shalt have that very wish granted."

* * *

**A/N: **For all that I said this wasn't a reenactment; lot of historical background went into this chapter -- two days worth actually. To give the chapter a feel of legitimacy, I based the physical descriptions & the situations off real historical characters & events. King Richard was described as being 'light-eyed (which I take to mean either green or blue eyes) & fair, with hair a color between red and blonde'. Also, I figure he was probably good-looking which was why he was liked so much over John -- who probably wasn't as handsome as he was. So obviously I matched Katy to Richard; Prince John's description was pulled from the historical description of their father, King Henry.

Joan's capture by King Tancred of Sicily (rescued by Richard), John's alliance with King Philip of France (who was conveniently back in France because he got sick on the Crusade and deserted Richard to come home), John's annulment of marriage from wife Hadwisa (because she was childless) & subsequent marriage to Isabella (who was 20 years younger than he was -- cradle robber!), John's attempted betrayal of William Longchamp AND the fact that Philip was also divorcing his wife & seeking a new one RIGHT along the timeline of this story are all historical facts/events. I just spun them to fit my plot -- 'cause I'm awesome like that! (grins) I've been playing up King Richard's more 'valiant good-humored' side like he is represented in the Robin Hood stories, because according to what I've been reading he wasn't a great guy. Not by a long shot! But for the sake of fiction, we'll pretend he was.

You won't find Katherine (Katy) in any history book, but I prefer to think it's because all her outrageous antics got her cut out because her family refused to let them be told to future generations. (chuckles) But the other sisters Joan, Nora & Maud are real historical figures. Peter of Courtenay & Matthew A'jello are real characters as well -- the former was King Philip's cousin & also went on the Crusade with Philip; the latter was vice chancellor under King Tancred of Sicily. I have no idea if you could really climb a portcullis or swim a moat, but I figured Katy would be the type to try!

On a final note: I've decided to amend my timeline because it was pointed out to me by one of my faithful readers (thank you Misha!) that Robin was probably only home a year instead of two. That, coupled with the historical timeline (Richard came home in 1194), convinced me to go ahead and step my time back a little. Even though the shows writers don't seem too concerned with historical accuracy; they have had Robin fighting _five_ _years_ in a Crusade that only lasted _three_. I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit detailed & dry. It was necessary to shed light on Prince John's 'Evil Scheme' (TM) & introduce us to Katherine. I promise, the next chapter takes place amongst 'familiar characters' in Nottingham. Just bear with me ok?

Thanks to all who read & reviewed!

-- Christy

* * *


	4. 3 :: No Good Deed

_is that all good deeds are  
when looked at with an ice-cold eye  
if that's all good deeds are  
maybe that's the reason why  
no good deed goes unpunished  
I'm wicked through and through  
I promise no good deed  
will I attempt to do  
again. . . _

/ Wicked soundtrack -- No Good Deed

* * *

3.

Newark Castle: Nottinghamshire, England -- 1193

The folded parchment, one flap lifted where the ducal seal was broken, was regarded closely. It was clasped tight between jeweled fingers as two men studied it, one eagerly, the second with no small hint of disdain. He was an older man with a pointed face and a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. His gray eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Gisborne," he drawled in a tone reserved for idiots and small yapping dogs, "I fail to grasp the reason for your excitement. It's only a missive from Wrothston -- and even at that it looks boring." He tossed the parchment on the table dismissively. "The usual bunch of old wives gossip; who's marrying who and what brat is being carried now, la-de-da-de-da…"

He trailed off in boredom and picked up his knife to wave it at the other man. "Certainly not worth interrupting my lunch over. Now Gisborne, you know where the door is, hmm…"

"But my Lord," the other man, called Gisborne, interrupted. He was younger than the first man, tall and raw-boned. He was dressed in fine leather and his eyes shone clearest sapphire. "I assure you it is important. If you will only read it, you'll see what I mean."

The older man cocked his balding scalp to one side. "Do I look like I care Gisborne? Do I? A clue: _no_. If you want someone to snivel about who died in Wrothston and such, then hire a town crier. I'm busy, hmm."

Sir Guy of Gisborne shook his dark head. "My Lord Sheriff, this is no ordinary letter. This is from the Duke of Wrothston."

"Fascinating," The Sheriff replied, not looking up from his plate. "Did you suppose I thought it from an illiterate peasant?"

He cut off a piece of venison to chew vigorously before continuing. "So it's a Duke's whelp born, not a serf's? Just means the whelp is richer, hmm. And I still don't care…"

"My Lord, pray hear me out," Gisborne cut in again. "The Duke of Wrothston appears to be well acquainted with the Huntington estate and the Locksley family, that is to say, Robin of Locksley…"

"Good for him. Tell Hood the next time you see him he's got mail."

"…AND Regina of Locksley."

Gisborne stopped, allowing the words to sink in. This managed to get the Sheriff's full attention, something Guy had been attempting unsuccessfully since the Sheriff lost interest in the letter. Interest now miraculously renewed by the mention of Regina.

"_Regina_ of Locksley?" The Sheriff's sharp gaze came to rest on the letter which he scanned absently while he waved his knife again at Gisborne. "Who is that, hmm?"

"From the context of the letter, she appears to be Locksley's sister, sent away when he went to the Holy Land. The good Duke is writing us --Locksley, he believes-- to let us know his dear little sister was well taken care of while he was away and is now coming home." Gisborne tapped the table's surface with a fist as he clarified. "Here. To Locksley Manor."

The Sheriff just stared at him a moment. Then a toothy smirk began to curl across the Sheriff's face. For a moment it was stagnant and something dark and ominous played at the edges of it, then it vanished like a spider scuttling out of the light.

"Ah Gisborne," he said, rubbing his hands together. "A sister is it?"

"Yes My Lord."

"Hood has a sister, hmm. And she's coming here?"

"Yes My Lord."

"And Hood has no idea she is coming?"

"I don't believe he does, My Lord."

"Gisborne why the devil didn't you speak up earlier, hmm? I'm sure you can see how having this information is, how shall we say it -- advantageous."

Gisborne, being relatively sharp on the uptake, realized it wouldn't be to _his_ advantage to point out he'd been trying to share that very information for the better part of the hour and settled for a shrug. "Apologies, my Lord."

The Sheriff ignored him. Tapping the parchment against his bristly chin, he mused, "We must devise a proper homecoming for our sweet young miss. We want to make her very comfortable here in Nottingham -- she'll be staying longer than she knows." He allowed himself a smirk before continuing. "Also we must make absolutely sure Hood knows nothing of her coming. It is essential that she reaches us before either she or Hood have the chance to learn of one another's whereabouts."

"What would you suggest?"

Gisborne studied the Sheriff with unshakable confidence. If there was one thing the Sheriff of Nottingham excelled at, it was cunning. His methods of dealing with Robin Hood in the past proved unsuccessful, but that wasn't a mark against his ingenuity. Rather it was only because Robin was aided by his fearless band of ruffians --and a huge dose of luck-- that he'd so far evaded the noose designated for his neck.

But good luck eventually ran out. And even Robin Hood couldn't continue to hide behind the leafy skirts of Sherwood forever.

"I received a rather interesting missive myself today," The Sheriff said, still thoughtfully tapping the parchment against his chin. "From Prince John. It detailed the itinerary of his trip through the Northern shires. It is expected that he will be journeying to Nottingham within the next fortnight."

"Is this visit unexpected, My Lord?"

"Not really. He generally leaves London once or twice a year to visit the shires, but this time he claims he could not make the trip himself and has sent an ambassador in his place. This works to our advantage because this ambassador should be passing through Sherwood right about the time our sweet young thing heads for 'Home, Sweet Locksley Manor'."

He dropped the parchment back on the table and spun to face Gisborne, having to look up to meet the taller man's eyes. "An expensive coach with a ducal coat of arms would be impossible to hide and twice as difficult to protect, hmm. Hood would be sure to attack it the moment it reached Sherwood. But, fortunately for us, we have a distraction."

"A distraction?" Gisborne rumbled. The Sheriff snapped his fingers.

"Try to keep up, Gisborne. A distraction yes. Normally there is no way the Duke's coach could slip past Hood's gang unnoticed. But Hood will be focusing all his attention on the royal coach, which gives us the chance to seize fair Regina without Hood knowing it."

"But are you sure he'll go after the royal coach, My Lord? What makes you think he won't try for the Duke's coach instead?"

"Simple logic, Gisborne. Hood likes a challenge, hmm? And what could be more challenging than taking on the royal ambassador? The bigger the challenge; the greater the reward. Hood will assume that the royal coach will yield a bigger profit and rightly so. Why go for the small fish when a whale plants itself right in your path?"

"But surely the royal coach will be well armed? Do you really think Locksley will be such a fool as to take on all those soldiers by himself?"

"I have no doubt that Hood will go for the royal coach, soldiers or no. Course either way it works to our advantage. If there are enough soldiers present to arrest him and his men, well and good eh? Just speed Hood on his merry way to the hanging he so richly deserves. But if he escapes, it still serves our purpose. While he is out waving arrows at royal footmen, we will be collecting the perfect leverage to make Hood _an offer he can't refuse_."

The Sheriff paused then and emitted a rich chuckle. "I say, that was good wasn't it? I should write that one down, hmm."

"But what if Locksley doesn't take the bait?" Sir Guy seemed hellbent upon being an obstructionist. The Sheriff glared at him, a frown line formulating between his bushy eyebrows.

"Then we will give him an incentive, hmm? No such thing as being too cautious." He began to pace around Gisborne in small, confined circles. Gisborne didn't react; he kept standing erect and stiff, eyes directed straight ahead.

"Suppose you let it slip to a few convenient people about our royal visitor, eh? Should arouse interest, suspicion; all that sort hmm? Hood has ears everywhere, hardly a chance he won't hear about it. Bloody outlaw seems to know our business before we do. And just in case Gisborne, send a few guards -- good men, quiet men, out to meet little miss Locksley, hmm. Keep it discreet, we definitely do not want Hood to know why we are there or to follow them to our target. Keep them hidden unless we need them. But they should provide the extra security necessary to get her safely to Locksley Manor should Hood decide to pick the wrong coach to attack."

Gisborne smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "Excellent plan, My Lord."

The Sheriff waved him off. "Yes well someone has to do the thinking around here Gisborne, hmm? Off you go. Pass our news off to Hood." He stopped and cocked his head to one side, looking amused.

"You know something Gisborne," he continued, stroking his bearded chin in thought. "No good deed goes unpunished, hmm? Hood seems to think he can be all altruistic and play hero in my backyard without fear of repercussions. So I forced him to live in the forest, well _la-de-da-de-da_! It gets a bit soggy at night, but so what? As much gold as he's filched, he could buy a moderately sized castle by now. No, the reason he plays the brave fearless bandit is because he has never had a reason to fear me before. He knows I don't have the time or the manpower to tear Sherwood apart looking for him."

The Sheriff sat back down and contemplatively leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together. His voice grew mocking. "Hood has never had a reason to fear me because I held nothing he wanted before. And he knows those miserable little peasants he champions will protect him, hmm? Oh yes they love him, indeed they do! 'Cause he's so cuddly and lovable. . ."

He leapt to his feet and placed his face right up into Gisborne's, his mouth frozen in a sneer, revealing flashing white, carnivorous teeth. "Until now, Gisborne. Until _now. _This time Hood will fear me. He will lay awake at nights, breaking out into a cold sweat, wondering what I am doing to that precious little sister of his. His mind whirling endlessly; haunting him, _tormenting_ _him_ over the many, many horrible possibilities of what I could do to her. His dreams will be the echoes of her defenseless screams." He chuckled cruelly. "Delicious isn't it Gisborne? I can practically taste the fear already."

It said a great deal for Gisborne's constitution that he managed not to flinch with the Sheriff practically breathing down his neck like that. Only practice and plenty of military forbearance had conditioned him not to react to the Sheriff's habit of hovering too close, let alone the irritating way the Sheriff dropped a 'hmm' into every third word he spoke.

"Sounds delightful just as you say, My Lord. You mean to imprison the lady here then, so Locksley cannot get to her?"

The Sheriff nodded vaguely. Turning away from Gisborne, he moved back to the table and leaned against it as if bored.

"Imprison her somewhere; we will work the details out when she arrives I spose. Truthfully Gisborne, I'm rather eager to meet this girl, erm _Regina_ did you say—" at Gisborne's nod, he continued, "—yes well I have a hard time picturing what Hood's sister will be like. A female Hood, hmm? Rather good with a bow, I'd imagine."

Gisborne managed to look impassive. "Perhaps."

"Hmm. Regardless, like I said before Gisborne, no good deed goes unpunished. And its about time Hood had his comeuppance. For deeds done that were a bloody nuisance to us, he is long overdue a good _punishing_."

* * *


	5. 4 :: The Place That I Once Knew

_take me back to you  
the place that I once knew  
as a little child  
constantly the eyes of love watched over me  
oh I want to be  
in the place that I once knew  
as a little child. . . _

/ Jaci Velasquez -- I Will Rest In You

* * *

4.

Sherring Cross: Wrothstonshire, England -- 1193

"Sebby? Sebby! SEBASTIAN!"

A muffled giggle, giving way to a shriek of surprise, revealed to Regina exactly where her best --and oft times most annoying-- friend was. Ironically, it also revealed what he was currently up to as well. Regina rolled her eyes as a blushing maid, disheveled and embarrassed, crept out of the stables, followed closely by the subject of Regina's summons. He, neither embarrassed nor repentant, grinned broadly at Regina as if he wasn't just doing disreputable things with a housemaid.

"Reggie," he said calmly without the slightest trace of remorse, then winked at the maid. She turned cherry red and with a breathless giggle, fled towards the manor house. Regina watched her go with a sigh, then affixed Sebastian with her best glare.

"Good lord Sebby, have you no decency at all? Suppose it was your mother who had come out here to find you, uh. . ." Regina broke off, blushing. No word that sprang to mind could possibly be uttered, so she decided to leave it there. Sebastian however had no such qualms.

"Me having a bit of fun?"

"You acting immorally," Regina shot back. Her dark blue eyes snapped with indignation. "Really Sebastian, is this proper behavior for an up-and-coming Duke to be? Barely over twenty and already you are causing scandals."

"Well aren't we high and mighty this afternoon?" he returned easily. He tugged at the edge of his tunic to straighten it and shot her a grin. "For your information Reggie, its part of my duty as a young up-and-coming Duke --as you call it-- to produce an heir to be the next up-and-coming Duke after me. I'm just getting an early start at it, that's all."

Regina gasped. "Sebby, what _am_ I going to do with you?"

Sebastian just grinned, running his long fingers through his tousled black hair. He discovered a piece of straw and plucked it free. He nibbled at the end of it as he studied Regina carelessly.

"Keep me I spose 'til someone else will have me. You know Reg, much as I hate to say it, you are gonna have to be married yourself one of these fine days."

Regina gave Sebastian a penetrating glance. "Have you been talking to your father lately?" she demanded. "He said much the same thing to me just the other day."

He winced, tossing the straw aside. "You mean I'm thinking along the same lines as my father? Never say so!"

Regina sighed and leaned against the stable door. Her pose wasn't very ladylike, but she ignored the breach of decorum in favor of comfort.

"I just meant that it seems to be a frequent topic, Sebastian. Fact is: I have given the matter of marriage some thought. It's just that I don't have anyone right now whom I am so fond of as to consider marrying them."

"What about the McClauren brothers?" Sebastian folded muscular arms across his broad chest, his intense turquoise gaze resting on Regina. The bewitching mix of green and blue in his eyes was like watching the play of colors upon an ocean wave. "They've certainly made their interest plain enough, the way they are always come around here with pathetic excuses to gawk at you."

Regina sighed. The twin McClauren brothers, Rodney and Kenneth, were certainly handsome and charming to boot, with light blue eyes and fashionable blond hair. They practically haunted Sherring Cross nowadays, being they were good friends with Sebastian and since crossing into adulthood, the threesome were notorious for slipping off into Wrothston to raise hell together. On more than one occasion this was cause for _words_ between the Duke and his son.

Still Regina knew, much as she enjoyed the mischievous twins company, she couldn't possibly take them seriously -- or to her embarrassment, tell them apart. Their resemblance was uncanny and their personalities quite similar. She had a suspicion this would make a relationship with one of them very difficult, as she would have no clue which one she was actually with at any given time. Add to that the fact that the twins had a penchant for jokes --like switching places-- and Reggie knew she couldn't pick one without feeling very awkward over it. Eventually she'd learn to tell them apart of course, but _eventually_ might not come soon enough.

"Sebby they come over to see you, not me! You know you are one of their closest chums."

"Sometimes maybe, but if they were coming over just to see me they wouldn't be sitting in the parlor for an hour and a half drinking tea and making polite chatter with you Reg."

"Really Sebastian, I have no clue _what_ you are talking about."

Sebastian snorted, crossing one long leg over the other. Reaching out, he impudently tapped Regina on the head just to annoy her. It did annoy, as it was designed to point out how much shorter she was than he.

"Now Reg, don't be so naïve. I wouldn't be such a great chum to them if I didn't have the gorgeous Regina around for them to ogle whilst they prevaricate their visits are about me. Not that I blame them. Frankly any man would jump at the chance to see you Reggie and I'm not just saying it because we're close. You're a looker no mistake and since you won't let me lock you in a tower 'til you die, I guess its time to give marriage consideration so I won't spend my life worrying about you. And, all things considered, the McClauren brothers aren't a bad choice as choices go. I might even be inclined to let them ask for your hand without killing them for it."

Regina rolled her eyes. Straightening up, she swept her arms out expansively from her sides. "Must you be so dramatic, Sebby? I'm sure there are many good women, both past and present, who've lived their whole lives doing charitable and virtuous things without having a ring on their finger. If I don't marry, it won't be the end of the world. And, at any rate, I've still got time. I'm a tad over the usual marrying age, but I'm hardly an old maid yet."

"I should say not," Sebastian growled. "You are perfect just as you are, Reggie. And I'll bloody flatten anyone who says different."

Regina smiled. "I know. And I'm grateful. But trust me; the McClauren brothers aren't right for me. They don't make me feel. . ." she broke off and sweeping her arms out again, she twirled slightly on her toes before bringing them down to rest at her slim hips. "I wish I could explain it. I just know there has to be something more to it. When the right one comes along, I'll know it. And he hasn't. Not yet."

Sebastian watched her, a glint of amusement in his extraordinary eyes. "Well I'd marry you myself Reg," he drawled, "except then I'd have to kick the tar out of my own arse and I don't know how that'd work exactly."

Regina couldn't help laughing. "Oh Sebby! You are an idiot," she replied affectionately. She shook her dark head in response to his teasing. "As if I'd have you, what with all the carousing with maids you've done."

Sebastian shrugged his broad shoulders unapologetically. "Got to keep myself occupied somehow," he replied. "But in all seriousness Reggie, I'm not trying to be a nuisance. I just want to see you happy. You know that right?"

"Of course," Regina said, smiling. "And I will be. Just give me some time."

"All the time in the world," Sebastian vowed, placing a hand over his heart. "And if anyone tries to bother you about it, you just let me know. I'll put his head in a carrying case to send him off with, see if I don't. You can stay right here until you're ready, Reg. Sherring Cross will be all mine someday and it's your home too for as long as you want it."

"Actually, while I appreciate the offer, that's part of the problem. I think part of the reason I'm having such trouble is that I'm too far away from home. Much as I love Sherring Cross, I really can't stay here forever Sebby. And I do want to find love, just a little closer to home."

"Locksley? You want to go back to Locksley?"

"Yes. That's what I came out here to talk to you about. I _do_ want to go back to Locksley. In fact, I _am _going back -- _tomorrow_."

Sebastian's face darkened with a frown. "And just when were you going to get around to telling me this?"

"Well, I've been thinking it over for some time, but I didn't want to say anything until my plans were definite. And they are now. Sebby, I've simply got to go. I miss Locksley. I miss my friends there. I miss Robin. And I miss the life I used to know as a child. I have to go back, at least for a little while. And if I meet someone while I'm there," here she gave a tiny shrug, "well so much the better."

"I'm coming too." His voice sounded firm, nonnegotiable. Regina made a small sound, he thought in protest and he quickly cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"No Reggie, I'm coming. No arguments. You are not going anywhere without me."

"Sebby…"

"I mean it. You are not setting one foot outside this manor without me and that's final." Sebastian reached out and clutched her shoulders. His strong fingers held her fast as he bent to her level, his flashing eyes boring into hers. "Reggie, I know you want to be independent and I understand your need for adventure, I do! But you don't know how dangerous this journey may become. Bandits, outlaws -- and still worst things could befall you than the loss of a few coins. You need me there to protect you, just in case."

"If you will kindly listen but a moment," Regina cut in swiftly. She placed her hands on either side of Sebastian's face and spoke each word slowly for his benefit, "_Of_ _course you are coming. _Silly boy, did you really think I'd go without you?"

Sebastian hesitated, chagrinned. Gently he decreased the pressure of his fingers and released her.

"Er, I'm coming?"

"That's what I said."

"No arguments?"

"Much as I hate to disappoint you since you seem determined to have one, if only with yourself -- but no. I see no need to argue."

Sebastian blushed as he straightened. "Er, then why did you let me go on like that . . . ?"

Regina smirked at him. Her cobalt gaze twinkled with mischief. "Well it was so awfully entertaining to watch you flare up like a lit torch. Besides, I rather liked your little speech." She mimicked his stern tone from earlier, wagging a finger. "You are not setting one foot outside the manor without me, young lady. . . no, no, no. . ."

Sebastian blushed again from her teasing. "Reggie! I'm just trying to protect you, blast it!"

Reggie dropped her mockery and hugged his waist. "I know," she said affectionately. "And that is just why I love you. But please, don't protect me _too_ _much_. How am I ever to get married if you chase all the men in Locksley off before I can pick one?"

"Oh? Got a suitor in mind already have you?" Sebastian looked strangely amused. "Perhaps some poor pining fellow left to nurse his wounded heart alone when Robin sent you here whilst he was away at war?"

Regina gave a sharp shake of her dark and curly head. "No, no. Nothing like that. I just mean I'll be looking -- when I get back of Locksley of course. There are many fine gentlemen about, in Nottingham and Knighton as well. Surely someone will be suitable for me."

"Sounds as if you have it all planned out."

"I do," Regina replied defensively. "It'll all go perfectly according to my list."

"List?" Now Sebastian was really laughing. "You have a list?"

Regina glared at him. "Of course! You don't think I'd leave something as important as marriage up to mere chance, do you?"

"Really Reg, you are so full of surprises I don't know what to think. So what is on this famous list of yours? Does he have to be tall and handsome and carry the stars of the nightsky in his eyes?"

Regina scowled, smacking Sebastian on the arm. "No you idiot! That's silly and not a bit practical. My list is for important things. PRACTICAL things!"

Sebastian grinned and backed away, rubbing his tanned limb as he feigned injury. "Oh forgive me. I forgot how very practical matters of the heart are. Pray continue."

Regina kept glaring, her blue eyes carving straight to his soul. "Not if you are going to mock me."

"Mock you, m'dear Reggie? Never! Please, I really do want to hear it."

"Very well," Regina turned and somewhat stiffly, extracted a much folded and creased piece of parchment from a pocket on her dress. Sebastian barely resisted a snigger and put all his efforts into looking serious. Unfolding the document, Regina peered at it and read aloud.

"Ahem. The man I marry must be from a good family, well bred, educated and intelligent. Charming, sophisticated and able to handle himself in all social situations. He simply _must _be a gentleman, someone who would _never_ dream of flirting with dozens of women but would remain devoted to one. And of course, a man of means though I'm not really concerned about money," Regina waved that off carelessly. "Since the Huntington estate contains more than enough for us to live comfortably should the need arise -- but it t'would be nice to know he could provide for us just in case. A tradesman perhaps or a merchant would be good."

"That's quite a list. You really do have it all planned."

Regina nodded. "I do. And our first meeting -- pivotal of course. Perhaps at a party or in the Council of Nobles. I'll be dressed in my finest raiments and I shall know him for he'll be unable to take his eyes off me."

"I doubt any man could do that," Sebastian replied quietly. He reached out and gently placed Regina's hand in his own. "I hope it does work out for you Reg, really I do. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you."

Regina smiled, refolding the parchment in one hand and placing it back in her pocket. "Oh I have little doubt of it. But first, I have to go back home before any of this can happen. To the place I once knew as a little child. That's where I'll find my destiny."

Sebastian nodded. "So when do we leave?"

"Just as soon as you're packed. The servants are stowing my trunk in the coach as we speak."

"Packed?" Now Sebastian looked panicked. "Oh bother it. Can't I just wear the same tunic for the entire time we are there?"

Regina gasped. "Sebastian St. James! No you may _not_!"

"Whyever not?" Sebastian pouted and turned a full circle for her inspection, displaying the expensive tunic he wore, done in jade and turquoise to match his eyes. "Don't you like it?"

"That's not the point. The point is we will be riding in a coach together the entire journey to Locksley and I'd prefer not to smell you as well as see you during the whole trip."

Sebastian broke into peals of laughter. "Ah well one thing is for sure, Reg. A trip with you in it will never be boring."

* * *


	6. 5 :: Disenchanted

_Don't say she takes it all for granted_  
_I'm well aware of all I have_  
_Don't think that I am __disenchanted_  
_Please understand_  
_It seems as though I've always been_  
_Somebody outside, looking in. . ._

/ Mariah Carey -- Looking In

* * *

5.

Westminster Palace: London, England -- 1193

_Twwwaaannnng. _

A high-pitched zipping sound cut the silence, followed by a muted thud. Katy, sometimes also known as Princess Katherine, nodded her satisfaction as she lowered the bow slowly.

"That's much better," she exclaimed as she strode over to examine her work. "Look, the arrow went through all three this time. I'm definitely getting better at this."

Rachel, who was currently bemoaning her misfortune in life to be the princess' lady-in-waiting, winced. Her brown eyes widened as she watched hundreds of suspended goose feathers slowly drift down to the rug below, covering it in a cloud of white. Then she glanced over at the chaise lounge where three dainty silk pillows once sat neatly arranged. But now they were brutally skewered with an arrow and effectively pinned to the upholstery behind them, spilling their fluffy contents all over the lounge and the room at large.

"Wasn't that a lovely shot?" Katy enthused. "I think it was much better than -- _no_! Zeus! Xerses!" She stabbed a finger in the air and pointed. "Back, _sit_!"

This was directed, not towards Rachel, but two large black canines who had leapt to attention at the poof of feathers in the air and were now nosing around the debris investigatively, just to ensure the feathers weren't alive or going to react to the explosion. At their mistress' command, the beautiful Labradors emitted a guilty whine and slunk back to the corner where they previously sat. Rachel eyed them and this mess with mutual looks of disdain.

"My Lady, I'm quite sure this is not what your brother meant when he said you should retire to work on your embroidery."

Katy waved off the protest as if it were unimportant. "We do embroider," she replied matter-of-factly. "We sew up the pillows after we shoot them, don't we?"

"Beggin' your pardon my Lady, but I'm the one who sews them. You are the one who shoots them."

"Exactly. We both have our parts to play Rachel and we each do wonderfully even if I do say it myself." Katy allowed herself a moment to beam with pride. "Did you see that shot? Clean as a whistle. No doubt about it; my aim has improved vastly of late."

Rachel could see the correlation between Katy's archery improvement and the many times she was sent to her room as punishment, but wisely decided not to remark on this. Katy strode past the other woman, stopping when she reached the chaise lounge. She laid her bow down and wrapped a hand around the hilt of the arrow to yank it free. She had to brace one foot solidly against the lounge as she did, so deeply was the arrow embedded in the folds of material. Rachel closed her eyes in sudden pain as she heard the tattletale rip of expensive cloth and another burst of feathers filled the air.

"Your Highness, perhaps you could allow your guards to see to matters of self defense. . .?" her voice trailed off when she caught the look Katy shot her. She sighed and tried another tactic.

"Or if you practiced outdoors on a target more suited for arrows. A lady's chamber isn't really the proper place for exercises. I mean, you wouldn't try to ride a horse in here. . ." she trailed off again, this time in horror over the interested expression Katy was wearing. "_No_ my Lady," she added, a bit too firmly. "A horse would never fit in here. It's quite enough that we have _those _living in here already," she waved imperiously at the twin dogs in the corner, who eyed her back calmly. They were both raised from pups by Katy and very secure in their position of the household.

"Peridan could do it. He's very intelligent. He could make it up the stairs in a jiffy," Katy leapt to the defense of her horse, but Rachel hurriedly intervened.

"I meant his size, my Lady. He's much bigger than you, you know."

Katy deflated, caught by the infuriating accuracy of logic. Her chamber was spacious enough, but her furnishings were miniaturized and fragile as if their delicacy would somehow make Katy more delicate and princess-like through daily contact. Even if one could get Peridan up the stairs and through the doorframe, he'd trample the room to pieces in a matter of minutes.

"That's true," she admitted. "He probably wouldn't fit in here." She sighed and lapsed to silence. Rachel, encouraged by her victory, took another stab at it. Or shot, as the case may be.

"Yes my Lady. And just as Peridan is suited for outdoors, so is your archery. Indoors is too dangerous. Suppose you were to miss the pillows and hit something -- or someone. The consequences could be fatal."

"Nonsense. My aim is improving all the time, you can see that. And," Katy added with a touch of arrogance, "I never miss what I'm aiming at."

"Not to be difficult my Lady, but were you aiming at Zeus a moment ago when your arrow caught him?"

Katy sighed. "I can hardly help it if someone walks in front of my target, now can I? Besides, it only clipped his tail. Zeus is fine."

"An inch or two closer and he wouldn't be."

"An inch or two farther and it'd have missed him completely. Anyway," Katy concluded with a smug air, "he won't do it again."

Rachel sighed and threw up her hands in defeat. "Well, just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Don't worry. I'm sure nothing will happen. And tell you what Rachel? I'll make you a deal. If I shoot someone; I'll definitely take my archery outside from now on."

Ignoring how Rachel rolled her eyes at that, Katy deftly notched a second arrow only to have her shot forestalled. A gentle tap on her chamber door was followed by the guttural voice of the castle guard, "My lady, His Highness Prince John requests your presence downstairs."

Katy took one look at her room laden in fluffy white and the tattered feathers clinging to her dress and said calmly, "Tell him I'll be down directly. I have to finish one little thing first."

The guard, blissfully innocent of the connotation, replied, "Yes my Lady."

Rachel, being far more accustomed to her princess, merely sighed. Katy took no notice, plucking the feathers from her skirt with a casual air as if most cultured young ladies always engaged in a bit of archery practice before meeting their royal relatives for tea. But it seemed the more Rachel tried to point out Katy's inappropriate behavior, the more outrageous it got. Really, it was almost better to let the princess alone lest one fill her head with more perilous ideas. As violence went, the archery was at least somewhat contained. If Rachel dared raise too much hue and cry, she'd probably find Katy jumping out her own turret window with bedsheets.

"My lady, you'll never get that gown presentable in time," she stated tiredly. "It needs to be cleaned and pressed."

Katy observed her dress bemusedly, noting all the tufts of white still dotting it. "I spose you're right. I'd better change then." She pranced to the wardrobe, then hesitated, turning back to Rachel. "Do you think it's a good thing John wants to see me so soon? I expected he wouldn't talk to me for days, what with the courtyard incident and all. Normally he sulks terribly about such things, at least until I apologize so he'll speak to me again. It's not like him to be so -- _forgiving_."

"Perhaps His Highness is simply adjusting to your unique form of entertainment," Rachel suggested dryly. She moved behind the princess to help fasten her dress, but Katy shook her head discordantly.

"No I don't think that's it. John is not given to sudden bouts of charitable behavior. He's planning something, I know it. He placates me with a honeyed smile, but his eyes are cold and for the life of me I can't tell what he's really thinking."

"Maybe he's pleased by the news Sir Peter brought him. The French emissary may bear good tidings about the Crusade. Perhaps it is nearly over."

"Perhaps. But I doubt it. John wouldn't be pleased over that. He's enjoying himself too much as substitute king," Katy crossed to her vanity and wound her curls up as she reached for a jeweled pin. Her mind wasn't on her appearance however; it was still focused on what her brother John could be up to. He'd been too nice to her lately; self-satisfied like a cat who found where the cream was stored and she knew that signaled trouble ahead. Whatever John was plotting in his greedy little mind, it boded ill winds for her.

"He isn't clever," she said reflectively after a moment. "But he thinks he is and that's what makes him so dangerous. I wish Richard were here. He always knew what to do whenever John was up to one of his schemes."

She sighed and lapsed into silence. Her barely audible, "And I miss him," might have gone unnoticed had Rachel not been listening so closely. The lady-in-waiting hesitated, unsure how to respond. Katy's love of her older brother was quite evident and though Rachel wanted to make assurances of his safety to her ladyship, she didn't want to intrude on what was clearly a private moment. So she remained silent, and hoped supportive, until Katy spoke again.

"Well, enough of this. I guess its time for me to head downstairs and face whatever nastiness John has planned for me like a man."

"_Woman_?" Rachel put in dryly, brow raised. Katy shrugged her shoulders.

"Whatever."

* * *

"My liege," Sir Peter bowed as he stepped into the dining hall. Prince John smiled thinly.

"Do sit Sir Peter," he invited. He waved an imperious hand at straight-backed chair to his left and Peter took it. Though the dining table was narrow and long enough to seat a good-sized congregation, Prince John allowed for closer proximity only because it would make discussion between them easier. A serving maid stepped forward at his summons and began filling a goblet of wine for Sir Peter.

"Katherine will be joining us momentarily," John continued. "She's just finishing up her embroidery."

"Embroidery?" Now Sir Peter looked surprised. "From your description of her My Lord, I wouldn't have thought the princess one to enjoy embroidery."

John nodded. "Heavens yes, she dotes upon her embroidery. She spends hours a day up in her room, making pillows and quilts and other such womanly undertakings. And thank God for it -- it's the only peace I get. I'd buy her all the silk in the trade routes, so long as it keeps her _upstairs_ _and_ _quiet_!"

Sir Peter would've chuckled at that, but he was struck speechless by the vision behind Prince John, just barely visible from the archway leading to the dining area. An angel, for _surely_ that was what she was, descended the curving staircase slowly; her gown draping her slender body and trailing softly behind like a celestial robe. Her hair was the flaming glory of sunrise, entwined in jewels upon her elegant head and her eyes the color of spring, so pure and clear a green Peter could tell even at that distance. Her face was beautiful, flawless, and when those lovely eyes landed on him curiously he caught his breath abruptly. Dear God, that couldn't be Katherine -- could it? Reports of her beauty had not done her justice. Philip was going to be falling all over himself to repay John for this.

"My lords," a melodious voice rang from the archway, followed by the princess herself, who lightly trod over to them, looking deceptively feminine. John gave her a look of exasperation. Peter was staring openly, dazzled by a view which he found immeasurably fascinating. It didn't matter what rumors circulated about this lovely creature; just one look at her oughta dispel them all. How had John prevented the other noblemen from beating down the doors after her? And she was still unmarried? That was the amazing part. So what if she was a mite willful? After seeing her face, Peter doubted there was a man alive who'd care.

"Katherine," John replied and his tone wasn't one bit inviting. "Sit down please." He nodded to the chair on his right and Katy took it, waving away Sir Peter who instantly found his feet to assist her.

"That's alright. I've got it," she assured him, yanking out her own chair. John groaned and palmed his face as Peter backed away, regretting his loss of a chance to brush against her smooth skin. He instantly forgot his disappointment when Katy flashed him a brilliant smile and his mouth dropped open.

"Katherine," John said coldly. "Sir Peter of Courteney. Sir Peter, my sister Katherine. And for God's sake man, close your mouth! You are letting flies in."

Sir Peter blushed, realizing belatedly that he was still gawking at her like an idiot. He shut his mouth and reclaimed his seat hastily. Prince John resisted rolling his eyes only because it was uncouth and turned his attention to his sister.

"My dear, I have quite a surprise for you. I do hope you'll enjoy it, as its not only something you spoke to me of just the other day, but also a chance for you to serve our dear King and brother Richard, absent from us now in the Holy Land—" John hesitated and lowered his head as if holding back tears, "—may he return to us swiftly and safely."

Katy narrowed her eyes. The sugary tone was back in John's voice and it warned that something unpleasant lay just around the bend. She ignored his reference to Richard, _bloody_ _liar _that he was, and scrunched one hand into a fist where it couldn't be seen under the table.

"What surprise?" she asked suspiciously. John smiled, though it appeared closer to a smirk. It showed more teeth than good humor.

"You are going on a holiday my dear, or rather I should say, a good-will tour. You will be traveling to the northern shires and visiting them on my behalf. You'll be perfectly safe; I'll dispatch an escort of armed guards to accompany you. And of course feel free to take that mons—that creat—" he hesitated discreetly and amended, "—er, _horse_ of yours with you as well."

Katy stared at John, her mind whirling with questions. Where had this come from? John should still be furious with her after the incident this morning, not making offers for her to go abroad and cause new scandals. Was he just so sick of her now that he'd do anything to get rid of her -- or was there a more sinister ambition behind this showy demonstration of his generosity?

"Wait a minute. Why me? Why aren't you going on this 'good-will tour' as you call it? And what's all this about serving Richard in the Holy Land?"

John instantly sobered, looking more like himself now that the plastic smile was gone. "Katherine my dear, I regret to inform you that Sir Peter has brought some awful news concerning our beloved brother."

He shot a quick look at Peter with that, urging the counselor to agree with him. Sir Peter paid no heed; he was too busy staring entranced at Katy. And since John had no desire to shout across the table until the other man heard him, he sighed and continued.

"Anyway, it seems his strongest supporter, King Philip, took ill and was forced to take his leave. The tidings he brought of Richard are not glad ones. Alas, but it seems our brother is facing more than his share of strong opposition and the Saracen warriors refuse to desert the Holy Land. It is possible he will drive them back, but his armies are giving out and the Crusade itself balances on the edge of a knife. We must act quickly Katherine, if we are to help him regain his strength and propel him into victory."

Despite herself, Katy's interest was piqued. "What do you have in mind?"

"That is where you come in. See, this good-will tour has a twofold purpose, my dear. Not only will it give us to a chance to show the people that we are behind Richard and unite them in our desire to bring our King home safe, but you will fulfill a specific objective in each shire by being there. I've been in consistent communication with the Archbishop of Canterbury and, in the last missive, His Reverence sent a disturbing message. It is clear that some of the tax funds have been misappropriated; the ledgers don't quite match up and though its unclear whose been siphoning the money meant for our brother's holy war, _someone_ is taking advantage of the king's absence for their own personal gain. It's up to you Katherine, to find and identify this traitor."

A chill ran down Katy's spine. Someone was stealing tax money right under Prince John & the Archbishop's nose? Why that greedy monster! Her fury began to outweigh her fear that John was up to no good. Was there no justice left in England?! Her brother, their _king, _was daily risking his very life in the holy land for them and some no-good, two-faced bastard was skimming off Richard's precious resources just to pad his own pockets! **HELL** **NO**! Not while Katy had breath left in her body!

"How? How do I find this traitor?" she asked grimly, the possibility of not going stricken from her thoughts. John smirked again, but Katy was seeing too much red to notice.

"I'm sending a locked strongbox with you, my dear -- it contains all the ledgers and all the information necessary for identifying and capturing the traitor. I will also be sending one of my own personal guard to oversee this task and, if necessary, the capture and subsequent removal of this man from his position. I want to be clear Katherine; you are going as my emissary _only_, because I cannot. I want you to let Orif handle the details. This thief, whoever he is, is obviously a man with no scruples or moral character. That he can steal so blatantly, and from the church no less, proves just how dangerous a character he is. When he finds out he's discovered, he'll become more dangerous still. I don't want you getting involved. Richard entrusted me with your safety while he is away and I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. Now swear that you won't interfere -- _swear_ _it_ _to_ _me_, Katherine."

"I swear," Katy replied softly. The fact that she was crossing her fingers behind her back was not a gesture of disloyalty, she assured herself, but one of caution. She tried to smile, but it was uncomfortable. Particularly since that other noble from King Philip's court --er Sir Peter was it?-- kept staring at her. And why _was _he staring at her like that anyway? Like she was a dessert he was dying to devour. She wished he'd stop looking at her and turn his attention to his plate, but he eyed her relentlessly, seeming utterly bewitched by something.

"Very well then," John replied in a milder tone. "You'll leave upon the morrow; Rachel will accompany you of course and any other servants you wish to take as well."

"Can I take the dogs?" Katy interrupted. As always, her animals came first.

"_May_ _I take the dogs_," John corrected wearily, then waved a hand. "Yes, yes by all means, take them! The guards will make ready tonight to escort you through London. The first shire you'll be visiting is Nottingham and a message has dispatched been sent to Sheriff Vasay to expect you. In past letters to me he's expressed concern over a disturbance in Sherwood, but your guards will keep you safe. Do make sure to pack enough; you'll be gone for a season at least and I want you to look your best. You are all that is representing your king and kingdom to these people Katherine; I hope I can trust you to be on your best behavior."

"Oh yes," Katy murmured, quite distracted. Good gracious; politics, intrigue, embezzled funds? She'd thought before that Prince John was up to something, but she had no idea it meant all of this. And he was trusting her to handle this? But why? Why would John let her to investigate something this serious -- well, but he really wasn't, was he? Actually he just wanted her to be the pretty face in the window while someone else handled all the excitement. Well, damned if she was going to stand for that. She'd find someway to be part of the excitement.

Still it begged the question of why John was letting her do this. He knew her too well, surely he wouldn't send her if this was as important as he let on. Why wasn't he going instead of her? What wasn't he telling her about this?

"I still don't understand why you are sending me instead of going yourself, John. I mean, doesn't it make more sense for you to go and apprehend the traitor rather than I?"

"Would that I could go, but I have other responsibilities here Katherine. The nobles are getting restless. Rumors are flying madly about, some true, some untrue, but some of the nobles are displeased with his choices concerning the Crusade. There is a wave of discord beginning to build against our dear brother which, if it grows stronger, could prove to be Richard's undoing. I must remain in London to rally his supporters and stop this before it becomes a disaster. Philip will be joining me shortly; he too will help end all this before it starts."

Katy narrowed her eyes and tried not to reveal her disgust. She despised Philip of France; moreso even than John. Their meetings were few and stormy, not that Philip hadn't given indication he'd like them to be friendlier, but because Katy couldn't abide being near him. She knew he shared a close friendship, nearly a brotherhood, with Richard and could never understand that. Why couldn't her brave brother see right through that oily charm of his? Katy certainly had. Granted, she supposed Philip had a certain way about him, she'd seen it work on other people. And he was handsome enough, if the way women practically drooled over him was any indication. But Katy found him too handsome actually, his austere, blond looks were the result of his patrician bloodlines, the blue of his eyes was cut ice. But though Philip looked every inch the regal prince, Katy had seen some of what lay under the surface appeal and she didn't care for it. He manipulated with a smile, charmed with an ulterior motive and lied through those perfect teeth without a qualm. Katy had made her disgust plain to Richard and it kept Philip away from her -- for now. If Philip was planning to be here in their court, without the safety buffer of Richard between them, all the more reason for _her_ to get away.

And though she doubted John's intentions were to dispel the rumors about Richard --to start some new ones, more likely-- she knew that while Philip may be a bastard, he and Richard were nonetheless close. His influence should keep John from succeeding in whatever his real plans were while she was away.

"I see. Well in that case," she rose to her feet, "I'd best get packing, hadn't I?" She excused herself quickly and rushed off to prepare, leaving Prince John and Sir Peter to the rest of their dinner. Despite her misgivings, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement over it all. After all, wasn't this what she'd wanted? To get out of this stuffy old castle and find some adventure? She was so disenchanted with her life here, she was positively yearning for freedom. And here it was, the opportunity dropped into her lap like a gift of God. Regardless of what Prince John's true motives were, for she didn't believe for one moment he'd been completely straight with her, she was still getting what she wanted and the anticipation felt wonderful. She couldn't wait to get started.

* * *

**A/N: **My humblest apologies for my apparent lack of abandonment towards this & other stories. Kari has been on a massive art craze of late. She's designed bold, colorful, beautiful things & I've been helplessly swept along with it, enticed by the promise of new shiny fandom loves to admire. But the new layout I'm trying to build now is at a stuck point in its construction. It is vexing me & so I'm determined to write until I feel better about it (or until something breaks in my mind).

Also, I had three very old, very, VERY dear friends of mine with birthdays all back to back this month. So most of my writing work has gone specifically towards them in the form of literary gifts, which --while still being far less than worthy of them-- was a humble token of my admiration & deep love for each of them. I've been pulling out their favorite stories & working up a storm, so it's left me little time to even glance in the direction of anything here. BUT -- for all that, I have taken a little time out to outline MOS (so it's nearly complete now on paper) & I've almost worked out my outline for 13K too. So both of them should be easier to catch up now. Look for more chapters upcoming in the weeks ahead.

-- Christy


	7. 6 :: Full Intention

_I've had a world of possibilities slip through my hands  
And presented with an answer that I couldn't understand  
So much frustration in trying it alone  
I've had the revelation I can't make it on my own  
Deep in my heart  
Deep in my soul  
There was always something missing  
_But now you've got my full attention. . .

/ Avalon -- All

* * *

6.

Sherwood Forest: Nottinghamshire, England -- 1193

"So I says to the lad, I says, 'Look 'ere. It's gettin' so s'an honest bloke can't find work even when he needs it. And 'ere he is, in the city and gettin' nowhere quick. It's time for a gent to look after hisself,' s'what I said to him. 'A nice military career's what I need,' I says, 'movin' up in the world, that way s'all done nice and proper. And I'll take any shift ya please, so you boys can nip down to the tavern right quick and I won't be no trouble.' And sure nuff, he looks me over -- and gives me the job."

One man sat central to the others, his hands animated as he told his lively tale. His audience was equally amusing to watch, a study in contrasts as a myriad of different expressions greeted him from each face.

Little John looked impassive, the big man's face typically unreadable behind his bushy gray beard. A brow arched as he listened, but he showed no more expression than that. He perched on the edge of a rock, leaning on his stout staff that stood nearly a head taller than his massive height. Much hunched on the ground beside him, big eyes round as he listened with a scowl of disdain muddying his credulous features, somewhat offset by the fact that he was edging forward periodically with breathless anticipation. Robin, standing at the end of the group, looked quietly amused. Will, who'd just walked up in time to hear the end of this, looked studious, but cautious. He found Alan's fervor entertaining but knew also to take his friend with a grain of salt. His brown eyes were calm as he listened intently; waiting for his chance to speak. He had news for Robin, but Alan showed no signs of losing steam anytime soon and Will was too polite to interrupt. Robin wasn't however, and made motions to do so, but Much beat him to the punch.

"So they just -- hired you on the spot?" he asked, sounding astonished. He was clearly unaware of Will's return, even though the younger man had walked up right beside him. Robin rolled his eyes, but Much was too engrossed in Alan's story to notice.

"Oh aye," Alan replied with no small hint of pride. "I'm not tryin' to be funny but -- it was almost _too_ easy. They practically invited me in for tea and cake, eh?"

"And no one _recognized_ you?" Much continued, still unable to get over this. Alan laughed heartily.

"Why should they? I mean, Sheriff's men couldn't find their arse with both hands and a torch, if you don't mind me sayin'. Why are they gonna recognize some down-on-his-luck lad s'not even from Nottingham? Oh I had to rough up a bit, but those travel papers Robin made for me are top-notch. Now Lord Robin, that's somethin' else again. If 'e tried to apply, well I dunno what the Sheriff'd do to him. But they don't recognize me, tain't famous enough -- well, leastways not yet." He grinned broadly. "When the Sheriff finds out one o' Robin's own men is workin' for him, well then I'll be 'anged -- _again_." He teased, remembering how Robin bailed him out on his first hanging and now here he was, begging for a new one. The other men laughed as well, but Robin rolled his eyes a second time, knowing with Alan's penchant for getting himself into scrapes another rescue was almost a certainty.

"So you're working for the Sheriff's guard now?" Much continued, sounding mildly awestruck. "And how are you going to manage to keep that charade up, what with you being an outlaw and all?"

Alan shrugged it off. "The guard's helmet hides most of my face and I'll only be working the night shift." He spared himself a quick grin there. "Those chaps are predictable, I'll say that. They gave me the worst shift, graveyard shift, just like I knew they would, patrolling until dawn. Chances are neither Gisborne nor the Sheriff would recognize me even if they did happen to see me. But the important thing is I have a guard's uniform at my disposal and that we now have access to the castle when we need it, just as Robin planned it."

"And they actually believed you were, were. . . what was it again?"

"Reginald. Reginald from Rochesdale." Alan finished with a flourishing bow. "At your service, m'lord."

While Much colored at the jab, Will was the one to roll his eyes this time. "Alan, why do all your cons either involve mothers with babies or Rochesdale?"

Alan glared at him, but Much had a different question. "How did you pass yourself off as a Reginald? That's a name for kings or dukes or something. You should have gone with William or James, a nice common name."

"I like Reginald," Alan protested, sounding hurt. "It adds a bit o' class, it does. I'm not bein' funny, but I think I look just right for a Reginald. Reggie even."

"No!" This came from a surprising source. All the men turned and looked at Robin with that, caught off-guard by the outburst. He'd been so silent they almost forgot he was even there.

"No," Robin repeated, quieter this time. "Not Reggie. Reginald is fine, but not Reggie."

The men exchanged confused glances. They had never seen Robin act like this and yet he seemed deadly serious, as if that name were significant in some way. Much, since he knew Robin from childhood and therefore rightly guessed the cause of Robin's discomfort, started to speak but Robin pinned him with a look.

"Don't," he warned and that was the end of it. He turned to Will then and Will delivered his report promptly.

"It's true Robin. There's a royal coach headed this way & quickly too. I'd say they'll reach us within an hour."

Robin smiled the coy little smile that spelled trouble and sent a shiver of dismay down the spines of his companions. "Excellent. And how many guards did you see?"

"Not many," Will sighed. "But I wasn't able to hang about long enough to get a headcount. Anyway, there could be more spread out in the forest. It's the _royal coach, _Robin. I hardly think Prince John is going to just waltz into our waiting arms unprepared."

"You never know," Robin replied mysteriously. "Any of Gisborne or the Sheriff's men about?"

"No," Will admitted, then amended, "Of course they probably assume Prince John is capable of taking of himself -- that's why, no matter how many guards are visible, I still don't think this is a good idea Robin. By angering Prince John, you're practically inviting the Sheriff to put a noose around all our necks!"

"Well _I_ think that it's worth the risk if we can pull this off successfully. If it seems too dangerous, we'll back out, but we need to at least investigate the situation. The gold Prince John will carry should be quite a sum, considering it has to last him the entire journey across the northern shires. And he'll be wearing jewels as well, thus doubling or tripling the payout. If we can give back to the shires what he takes from them by brute force, it'll all be worth it."

"Still I—"

Whatever Will might've said got lost in the sands of time as Djaq materialized from the forest. "Robin, there is a coach coming," she warned him.

Robin frowned. "I know. Will was just saying—"

"No. I mean _another_ coach. From the other side of the wood. Headed towards Locksley."

Robin's brows slanted up. "Another coach?"

"Yes. Another wealthy coach. With an official crest and everything."

Robin broke into chuckles. "Well lads, looks like it's our lucky day. Two coaches crossing Sherwood at the same time. And both nobility. Why we might just wipe out the needs of the entire year all in a days work. And our dear Sheriff says we never do anything productive."

"Master," Much put in, sounding worried. "You surely don't mean to try and rob _both_ _coaches at the same time_?"

"Certainly. Don't I always say 'the more; the merrier'? And are we not the 'merry men'?"

"But Master, you can't. I think you'll find it's quite impossible. We are too few and they are too well armed."

"Nonsense," Robin waved his concerns off and intoned solemnly, "if you can believe it, you can achieve it. Now don't be quarrelsome. I'm sure we'll have no trouble at all making our noble guests feel welcome in Sherwood -- once they've paid a small passage fee, of course."

"They looked as though they could well afford it," Djaq added. "The coach was not small, nor was it carrying little. It was laden with heavy trunks and the crest was finely tempered; smithy work such as that does not come cheap."

"Much as I hate to deprive our good friend Gisborne, but his wealthy guests will be late for dinner tonight," Robin remarked dryly. Then he looked thoughtful. "This coach, it had a crest you say? Describe it to me." The others looked confused so Robin clarified, "If it is a noble who is visiting Gisborne, I want to know as much about their purpose here as possible."

Everyone but Djaq looked uncomfortable. They all knew how fixated Robin was on Sir Guy and had varying degrees of concern over it. Djaq, with her exceptional mind for detail, easily recalled the crest emblazoned on the rear of the coach.

"Mmm, it had a blue background and a large gold cross, rather fancy, across the center. Right in the middle, there was a silver arrowhead, pointing upwards."

"Azure, on a cross fleury ore, a pheon argent," Robin said grimly. His eyes grew dark. "It's Wrothston. But what is he doing here?"

"Wrothston?" Alan prompted, eyeing Robin uncertainly. Robin nodded.

"Yes. Edmund St. James, the Duke of Wrothston," he said shortly. "I know him. But I can't imagine why he is here. Or what he wants." He frowned and looked at Much. "This bears investigation."

"Then what are we doing about the coach?" Alan wanted to know, who was getting excited over the thought of taking on two coaches at the same time. Or rather, over regaling the story later in great detail to any pretty tavern girl who'd listen.

"Nothing," Robin snapped, again short and terse. "The ducal coach is free to go. He has done me a great favor and I in turn owe him far more than my life. I will not see Wrothston or any of his family harmed. Is that clear?"

This garnered an assent from the puzzled, but loyal men of Robin. Much's assent was longer in coming and his gaze was worried as he watched Robin, knowing his beloved friend took far too much upon his young shoulders and precisely what these cares were that so troubled him. Robin nodded and his haunted look vanished.

"Right then. Little John, you come with me. The rest of you follow in small groups, twos and threes, until we surround the clearing west of here. The royal coach should be there within the hour. And when they reach that clearing men, there we'll attack."

* * *

It was early, so early the sun was still abed when Katy arose from her slumber. She loved her morning rides with Peridan and this morning in particular was so exciting she simply couldn't remain asleep. She rose and dressed quickly, not bothering to awaken Rachel and rushed out to the stables to greet Peridan; Zeus & Xerses trailing obediently at her heels.

The ride through the crisp morning air did much to clear her head and though she kept it to a minimum, being unfamiliar with the countryside where she now was, she still felt refreshed when she returned and began unsaddling and rubbing down Peridan. They'd been traveling now for nearly a week and though the inn's where they'd stayed were cramped and sparse and people always stared at Katy, overwhelmed at having a genuine princess among them, Katy was still so excited she simply didn't care. She was having the time of her life and couldn't make herself fret about anything; even her perpetual fear for Richard in the holy land was nearly forgotten in her wonder over new experiences.

If there was one thing she didn't care for though, it was the guard detail that John had assigned to her. They were about to drive her over the edge, the way they hovered and bullied and wouldn't let her do anything. They blocked her view of the countryside, they criticized when she tried to go riding alone with Peridan and they insisted upon handing all communication with 'the serfs', which bored Katy to pieces as she had no one but herself (and occasionally Rachel) to talk to. Katy understood the need for guards, particularly as she'd seen the envious way her expensive clothing and jewels were eyed; if she weren't so well guarded she imagined she'd be almost bankrupt nobility by now. But they were practically there; the inn they'd stopped at sat at the very edge of Sherwood Forest, she was told and just past that lay Nottingham. And she could bloody well defend herself anyway; with all her 'embroidery work' she didn't have the bow and arrow just for show. So why couldn't her guards just go off somewhere and be invisible until she needed them?

The thought of getting to Nottingham made her morning fly by and she wished she could hurry time along so they were there already. Her rush of adrenaline led her through awakening Rachel, repacking everything, getting the supplies settled and preparing Peridan, Zeus & Xerses all to go. But when she surveyed the huge quantity of guards John had assigned surrounding the couch again like an ominous stormcloud crowding the horizon, her heart sank.

"Blister it," she growled, looking them over. "John couldn't have been more direct about pointing out this coach's significance if he'd painted a sign that read: 'Rob me' on it. Really, this won't do t'all!"

"Your Highness, the guards are there to protect you," Rachel repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. She realized she'd do better to save her breath, Katy wasn't listening anyway.

"John isn't even present, yet he still finds a way to foil me. How am I supposed to have any fun if I cannot so much as see what's going on?" With an angry jerk of her shoulders, she stiffened and declared, "No longer. I will deal with this immediately."

She stalked over to the captain of the guard, who doffed his helmet respectfully at her approach.

"Your Highness."

Katy ignored the formalities. "Captain, I order you to take half this regiment and go on ahead to Nottingham. The rest will escort the coach through Sherwood."

The captain looked shocked. "But milady, Prince John specifically said that—"

"I know what he said," Katy interrupted. "And I am giving you different orders. Who here is the highest ranking person present?"

"Well, you of course Your Highness, but—"

"And who is in charge then?"

The captain knew he was trapped. "But my lady, it's only for your safety—"

"And I'm keeping half the guard right? To see to my blasted safety! So it's not as if I were left stranded and helpless. Now I am giving you an order. Is that clearly understood, captain?"

Outflanked and ultimately outranked, the captain knew when to accept defeat graciously. He gestured to some of the men to follow him and went to retrieve the strongbox. Orif, the personal guard placed in charge by Prince John, belligerently demanded to know what was going on.

The captain was all too happy to place this problem in someone else's hands. "My lord, the princess requests we send the strongbox on ahead at this time."

"Why," Orif complained, casting an evil eye at Katy. "Nobody informed me of any change and being direct line from Prince John himself, I should be first to be consulted."

The captain nodded. "Yes my lord, but Her Highness announced this to me only just now."

Orif glared and strode over to Katy, bracing meaty fists against his bulky waist. "Your Highness," he said, offering only a meager bow, "what is the meaning of this?"

Katy scowled at him. "I have decided the strongbox would be safer if it was sent on ahead, that's all. After all, since it is the focal point of this journey, its safety is just as imperative as my own. And rather than having the guards split their focus by trying to watch over us both, I think it'd be best to divide them up and have one group escort the strongbox and the other stay with me."

"You thought it best," Orif mocked, looking amused. "You're nothing but a woman. And barely a grown one at that. What would you know of such things?"

Katy bristled. Though her sex frequently annoyed her when she considered she could do many things just as well (and oft times far better) than a man, she was particularly disgruntled over having it rubbed in as if being female instead of male was somehow a drawback.

"I know good sense when I see it, unlike some people I could name," she replied hotly. "And really, since I am the royal one here, it matters a great deal what I think. Now suit up. You and the other soldiers are leaving _immediately_."

Orif looked put out. "Prince John shall hear of my displeasure," he shot at her, expecting her to cow at the name of her brother. Katy, just as fiery, cowed to no one.

"Indeed. I expect he shall," she snapped and left it at that. Still grumbling, Orif departed and Katy went to rejoin Rachel, who was muttering under her breath prayers over why she was the one chosen to companion Katherine and what grievous sins had she committed in the past life to deserve this. Ignoring her attendant, as she so often did, Katy climbed into the coach to make ready her trip through Sherwood.

* * *

Cloaked in earthy tones, the outlaws waited silently among the trees. The hoofbeats approaching gave warning of the couch before it came into view and Robin stiffened, readying himself to attack.

"This is it lads," he said in a low aside to all, flanked by the others. "The _royal _coach." He smirked. "Looks like your fears were groundless, for I don't see many guards. A single contingent at most."

"I don't know Robin," spoke the voice of reason, otherwise known as Will Scarlett. He crouched just behind Robin, his dark gaze already scanning and evaluating the situation before them. "There still could be other guards out of sight."

"Possibly," Robin agreed. "But if they are, they are well behind or we'd be able to hear them by now. At any rate we will be in and out quickly enough; they won't be a threat by the time they reach us."

"But Master, suppose Prince John is angry enough over the robbery to flush us out of Sherwood," Much inserted. His fingers tugged awkwardly at the frayed edge of his scarf, betraying the young man's nervousness. "He could send extra men or dogs -- even his knights after us. We'd be done for."

Robin shook his head. "King Richard took most of his knights with him when he left to the holy land and of those who remain, not many are loyal to Prince John. And besides, Prince John has more important tasks than chasing some outlaws in Sherwood over a few lost coins. Instead he will complain to the Sheriff; perhaps even see some chastisement is in order for the Sheriff's failure to capture us. And who here would wish to see the Sheriff get a little of what is coming to him, hmm?"

The quick assent was unanimous and Robin barked orders as everyone moved into position. At first there was nothing in the woods but the sound of pounding hoofbeats and the squeak of carriage wheels. Then, like a burst from a cannon, the forest erupted in a series of shouts and a volley of arrows. Invisible figures materialized like magic amongst the trees and began yanking guards off horses. One of the guards tried to shout for help, only to meet the business end of Little John's stick. Two more went down after a swift left hook from Will sent one guard reeling into another. Alan amused himself by pulling himself on a horse, rather than removing the guard first as everyone else was doing, but a clever kick once he was upright quickly remedied that problem. Astride, he whirled the horse around and shouted happily, "Tally Ho!" but shushed when a bevy of glares came his way as well as a hissed, "_Alan_!"

Robin reached up and grabbed the reins of the carriage horses, pulling them to a halt. He hesitated when he saw the black stallion at the forefront. The powerful animal was angered by the ruckus and was pawing the ground, snorting its displeasure. Fearing that it might rear up and harm the outlaws, Robin approached carefully, giving the horse time to sense his nearness. Peridan snorted again and shied a bit, but didn't react other than that. Murmuring soft pleasantries and assisted greatly by a sweet he'd plucked from his pocket for inducement, Robin carefully reached for the reins to quiet him down. Peridan glowered and sniffed his hand a bit, then grudgingly decided the sweet was acceptable. Robin reached up and, while patting the stallion soothingly, he looked to the others.

Djaq had nimbly scaled the side of the carriage and with a well-aimed knife, she persuaded the coachmen to come down. Much, Little John and Will disposed of the rest of the guards, the latter yanking Alan back down when he tried to force the horse he was riding into fancy pirouettes.

"There'll be time for that later," he ordered Alan tersely, causing the other man to grin unabashedly. The two leapt back into the fray, but the work was done. A smooth uppercut from Little John took the last guard down and Robin grinned from where he stood, just a foot away from the door of the coach.

"Lads, looks like it's a good day to be a beggar in Nottingham -- but a bad day to be Prince John!"

* * *

Katy was reading, or rather trying to read. The book was one on protocols and procedures of nobles visiting other nobles. Was it proper to use your own silver or should you rely on the host's silver instead? And naturally it held an entire section on the appropriate titles to call everyone; like what was the difference between a Count and a Viscount and could you call a Duke 'your lordship' or did it have to be 'your grace'? All senseless information in Katy's opinion. What the devil did it matter what you called them? Why couldn't you just call them Fred and George and Joe like everyone else?

It wasn't so much that the book was dull (though it was rather), but translating the Latin was giving her a headache. So it was almost a relief her reverie was broken when the couch came to an abrupt stop. The force of it flung Katy off her seat to the floor. Rachel was startled as well and nearly joined Katy below, but grabbed the restraint strap just in time. She started to speak, probably to yell at the coachman for the ungraceful stop, but froze when Katy waved her quiet. Zeus and Xerses tried to chip in, but she shushed them as well. She could hear voices outside the coach; men yelling and the clanking of armor punctuated by various grunts and groans of pain. Something was going on out there. From the sound of it, they were under attack.

She reached carefully for her bow and notched an arrow just in case. Rachel's eyes went wide, but she didn't dare defy Katy by protesting. Instead she whimpered and drew back against the upholstered seat as things outside suddenly grew quiet.

"My Lord?" a voice called merrily. It was a masculine voice, light and tenor. It held no fear, either of the occupant of the coach or the consequences of robbing him. Despite herself, Katy couldn't help but admire that.

"Come out good sir and greet your ambushers. And do be sure to bring any valuables you may have in your possession with you, if you'd be so kind."

Katy stiffened. Bold this rascal was, but she was damned if she'd be ordered out of her coach by an outlaw. She _was _a princess after all. Not a conventional one, but these men didn't know that. "That's 'your highness' to you," she called out frostily, not stirring an inch from her seat.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Then the same voice spoke again.

"Forgive me -- _Your Highness_. We were expecting Prince John."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but he wasn't able to make it. A robbery on the other side of Sherwood -- it's the busy season you know. Robberies here, robberies there -- he simply can't be present for all of them. So I'm afraid you are stuck with me instead."

There was a rumble of laughter outside the coach. Katy listened carefully, trying to distinguish by the voices just how many men she was dealing with. Hmm. Couldn't be more than a dozen or it'd be much louder. As it was, it only sounded like five or six.

And yet they _did_ manage to dispatch her contingent of trained guards single-handed. Best not to underestimate them.

"Of course if it had been my brother in this coach," she continued, mulling over how best to proceed from here, "you would wish you hadn't detained me. He is not known for being particularly merciful to criminals."

"And you are, Highness?"

"Of course," Katy replied. "I'd just shoot you and have done with it."

A low chuckle, then a soft inquiry, "Whom then do I have the pleasure of addressing, My Lady?"

Katherine might have felt more irritation that he was so amused at her expense, if it wasn't working to her advantage. If he tried to enter this coach invited, he'd see firsthand how serious she was when an arrow sliced through his abdomen. 'Katy' floated to her lips and was quickly dismissed. No self-respecting princess would give a total stranger her christian name, let alone allow him to address her by a nickname. She'd taken the role of a proper miss here and it wasn't wise to abandon that, not until she knew fully what she was dealing with.

"_Princess_ Katherine Isabelle Victoria Gwendolyn of England," she said, careful to pronounce every word distinctly so they could not possibly miss that she was gentry, just as she said. Then she added coolly like before, "But it's still 'your highness' to you."

Another chuckle and the man purred, "A pleasure Your Highness."

"The pleasure is all yours, I'm sure. And might I inquire as to the name of the man who is robbing me?"

"Robin of Locksley, my Lady. Known far and wide as the famed 'Robin Hood'."

"If you are so famous, how come I have never heard of you?"

A mocking laugh rang out. "What? My reputation hasn't spread as far as London? Never say so. I'm shocked to hear it my lady, and wounded besides."

"Then be wounded, for it's all you deserve; turning to a life of thievery. Taking from the weaker to better yourself instead of showing responsibility is no life for a real man."

This 'Robin Hood' had the nerve to sound insulted when he replied. "Your Highness, it is no dishonor to steal when people are starving and yet one ring from your hand could buy them bread for an entire winter."

"'People' meaning 'yourself' I suppose," Katy replied, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Really, did these outlaws have no shame? They blamed their own laziness on starvation and rather than be willing to turn to an honest trade, made her sound like the criminal for being born with a royal station. As if _she _had any choice in the matter. God knows she'd just as soon be out in the forest with them, only she'd never debase herself enough to support this band of n'er-do-wells. If they were so slovenly as to abandon the shires who needed them, let them starve away.

"Starving eh? In the middle of a forest? The trees have ceased to produce nuts then and I spose berries no longer grow on bushes. All the fish have tragically swam away and surely the animals must've wandered to other forests -- or perhaps it is simply you who are too busy harassing innocent travelers to catch any of them. Starving, my—my I can see that. I ache for you, indeed I do."

"Such a sharp tongue you have. 'Tis most unbecoming, particularly when you speak of things you know so little of. Have a care that it does not land you in a more precarious position than you've attained already." His tone carried a warning, which Katy chose not to heed. "And now the jewels my lady, if you please."

"I do not please. And I will not give them to you," Katy said grimly. Her ire was aroused now and she felt more like handing out a kick in the pants than jewels. "If you want them, come in here and get them yourself." She held her bow steadfast, nocked and ready.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that my lady. I must insist you have over the items at once, out here, where we can see you."

"I am not setting one foot outside this coach sir. I don't know where you think you get off commanding me, a princess, to make an appearance for your delectation, but I can tell you right now I will not comply."

"Then we shall simply take the horse instead." A snort from Peridan made Katy bristle, revealing precisely to which animal the rogue was referring. "A purebred stallion, my lady. Why his bloodlines alone are probably worth your jewels and then some. If you refuse to cooperate, I suppose we'll have to make do with him -- and your luggage of course. Bound to be some gold in there as well."

_Confounded_ _man_! Katy gritted her teeth together. Blister it, she will not be bullied this way, but it appeared she had no choice. That blasted scoundrel had presented her with a devil's deal and she was trapped no matter which way she turned. It was either humiliate herself by stepping out of the coach and allowing herself to be robbed, or lose her most precious possession in life. The choice, though infuriating, was an easy one. There was nothing Katy would not sacrifice for her beloved Peridan.

"Fine," she hissed, ripping the rings and bracelets from her arms and reaching up to undo the clasp of the necklace her throat. "I'm placing my jewels in my valise, which I will hand out to you. Take them, and the trunks if you must, but leave Peridan out of this. I swear, if you touch him, I'll have my guards put an arrow through your heart -- if you even have one."

That 'Robin Hood' was laughing again as he assured her, "Nay, Your Highness. The jewels will be quite sufficient. The good people of Nottingham thank you for your generosity." His tone was smug, cheeky even and not only did she not believe a word he spoke; Katy never longed more to put an arrow through somebody than she did at that moment. But for Peridan's sake, she leashed her temper and stuffed her jewels into her valise, not bothering to remove anything else as she yanked open the door of the coach and, careful to conceal herself behind it first, she stuck her arm out with the valise dangling below.

A warm, strong hand met hers, removing the valise and freeing her delicate hand. But instead of releasing it, he wrapped his long fingers around and Katy started as she felt the indentation of soft lips gently brushed against the back of her wrist. Furious, she yanked her hand free and rubbed it against her skirts, trying to remove the imprint of his lips. The low chuckle that followed her action indicated he knew what she was doing and was thoroughly enjoying it.

"Bastard," Katy hissed and ignoring the gasp of Rachel behind her, she continued hotly, "I shall enjoy seeing you dangle at the end of the noose."

"And you, Your Highness, I shall just enjoying _seeing_," he countered easily, not a bit daunted by her anger. "It might be worth a hanging to see your face, if the rest of you is anywhere near as lovely as your hand. I wonder if I might have a quick peek, just for a taste of what's to come."

"You do and you'll get your throat ripped out," Katy warned with great relish and just to accentuate the point, she issued a sharp command. Instantly, Zeus and Xerses leapt up from their crouching position on the floor and growled, deep and ominous. The guttural sound reverberated, rising rapidly in pitch to lead to a few angry barks. There were no more invitations issued from outside the coach then. Just the crackle of dry leaves and grass indicating the nervous shuffle of many feet.

"You have your spoils, so we'll be moving on now," Katy snapped over the frantic barking of Zeus and Xerses. At a wave from her they quieted and she added, "the coachmen has been returned to his perch, I trust."

He hadn't, that was obvious, but a scuffle and a few unrepeatable words later saw the task done. Katy heard Robin call to his men and after a moment or two, the coach lurched into motion again. Katy fell back against her leather seat with a deep sigh. Rachel, sitting ramrod straight on the other side of the coach, emitted a duplicate sigh and finally relaxed a little. She was by turns petrified and horrified and didn't know which emotion to give into. First there was the fact they'd been robbed, then it was that her princess was bantering with outlaws, then if that wasn't scandalous enough, Katherine was swearing and threatening to shoot them— Rachel closed her eyes and winced. She knew she should've been a lady-in-waiting to the Duchess of Eton instead.

"My lady," she began finally in a world-weary, 'oh why is it always me' voice, "must you always do such things?"

Katy, who'd been staring out the window, looked over now with an innocent expression, completely feigned no doubt. "What things?" she asked puzzledly, as if she were completely unaware that she'd just broken about a million rules of protocol. Unaware -- or perhaps just unconcerned.

"If I could only list them all," Rachel replied wryly. "Let's start with you dismissing half your guard, thus inviting us to robbery in the first place, and work our way down from there."

Katy looked annoyed. "The guard was cumbersome and they kept getting everywhere. I dismissed them because I was bloody tired of looking out my window and seeing chainmail. I could just as well have stayed in London if I wanted to be under lock and key all the time. How was I supposed to know we'd be robbed?"

"Your Highness, you can't keep circumventing all attempts made for your wellbeing. What if one of those creatures had attacked you?"

"Then Zeus and Xerses would've ripped out his throat," Katy replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, having the guards about wouldn't have prevented the robbery. Those were desperate men, Rachel -- and desperate men are not easily stopped. All it would've availed is there'd be more chainmail decorating the forest floor and the strongbox would now be in _their hands. _Is that what you want?"

Rachel sighed and tossed her hands up in defeat. She'd never win an argument with the princess, she knew that, and yet still she never failed to try. "As you wish it, Your Highness. But does it not gall you knowing that these men will be feasting tonight at your expense; buying ale and mead off jewels won through the blood shed by your ancestors?"

Katy gave her radiant head a short shake. "Oh don't worry. They dared to rob me and in so doing, they've gained my _full_ _attention_. But they shan't like it! Because now I have a _full_ _intention_ of getting _my_ revenge."

* * *

**A/N: **I intended to have this chapter out earlier than this, but --as I am continually rediscovering-- life rarely turns out how you expect. Now, a long week, a couple of _lovely_catch-up shows, a theatrical performance & a late night concert later, I've finally finished this erstwhile chapter. Again, I'd intended it for early in the week, but of course I had to design my coat-of-arms for Sherring Cross too (darn research) -- so there you have it. At least it's up now. It'll be another week or two on continuations tho, I'm afraid. There are prior commitments I **must **address first!

Appreciate all the good feedback as always & please do let me know what you think! I'm always open to suggestions, thoughts or just good old-fashioned flattery. (grin)

-- Christy


	8. 7 :: Is This Home?

_Is this home?  
Am I here for a day or forever?  
Shut away from the world until who knows when  
Oh but then if my life has been altered once, it can change again  
Build higher walls, surround me  
Change every lock & key  
Nothing lasts, nothing holds all of me  
My heart's far, far away -- home & free. . ._

/ Disney's Beauty & the Beast Soundtrack -- Home

* * *

7.

Locksley Manor: Locksley, England -- 1193

It was hard not to feel nervous. But Gisborne managed.

Mostly because nerves were caused by a lack of initiative and Gisborne had plenty of that, as well as a set plan of action. When young Miss Locksley appeared, he would politely but firmly disregard her protests and take her into custody. It was simple, yet effective. Then, when Locksley himself heard the 'bad news' and rushed to his little sister's defense, Gisborne would be there to place him in custody as well. A perfect plan. Neat, efficient, just the way Gisborne liked things. No need for complicated, hackneyed plans that left a wide margin for error. Locksley had an amazing run of luck, there was no denying that. Damned if it wasn't near supernatural the way time and again he slipped through their fingers. But _this time_ they had him. A situation Locksley couldn't beg, fast-talk or squeeze his way out of. Success was a certainty and Gisborne couldn't have been happier about it.

Especially considering how things stood now. He had a score to settle with Locksley and with Locksley in irons awaiting a hanging sounded like the perfect time to settle it. He scowled, remembering how, shortly after the disrupted wedding between he and Marian, one of the palace guard informed him that, not only had Locksley retrieved Marian and brought her with him to Nottingham on his own horse, but also they were publicly embracing on the steps of the castle. While he, Gisborne, was ever the gentleman with Marian, not daring so much as a caress out of place; Locksley swoops in and kisses her. And she, apparently, returned the kiss. And that summed it up in a neat, if harsh, little package. Nothing more need be said. The charade was over.

The only reason Gisborne hadn't shared this information with the Sheriff yet was that he was in no mood for further taunting. Or pampering Vasay's already inflated ego by proving the Sheriff right. Bad enough he'd been jilted --at the altar no less-- by Marian in front of the entire community; he couldn't take further mortification on top of that. He had not a care left for Marian or her outlaw lover, but fortunately for them his need for revenge didn't outweigh his vanity. He would find his vengeance through another method, one that didn't involve the Sheriff or public humiliation. Then revenge would be sweet indeed.

The clatter of carriage wheels and hoofbeats on the cobblestones outside distracted him and he grinned. Things were rolling right along, just as he'd anticipated. He rose and strode confidently downstairs, waiting calmly in the front room as the carriage pulled up outside. He heard the lady alight and as the carriage rolled on, there was a knocking which Gisborne allowed the servants to tend to. No need to rush these things. He would see to her arrest all in good time, but he could at least allow her to settle in first. Though she was Locksley's sister, she was still a lady and he was nothing if not a thoroughbred gentleman.

Thornton answered the door by the second knock and a sweet voice chimed happily from the entrance. "Thornton, you dear, dear man! How lovely to see you!"

"Lady Regina," Thornton sounded just as delighted and Gisborne, watching through a crack in door was surprised to see him embrace the lady, withholding no affection as if they were equals. "Welcome back to Locksley Hall. I did not hear of your coming."

"Robin didn't tell you to expect me?" Regina replied and continued before Thornton could get a word in edgewise. "Oh heavens, I spose he's been so busy since getting back that he quite forgot and that means my room hasn't been aired and you know how I hate stuffy rooms, its like being sentenced to live in an old hat box really and I—Thornton?" she finally broke off her wild run-on sentence when she noticed the older man's look of distress. "What's wrong?"

Before Thornton could reply, Gisborne decided to step in. "That will be all Thornton," he said authoritatively, emerging from the room where he was waiting. Regina looked taken aback as she stared at Sir Guy, not knowing who he was. Sir Guy was equally taken aback, but for an entirely different reason.

This _couldn't_ be Robin's sister -- dear Lord no. He was expecting some spinster, a homely little waif with a nasty disposition like her blasted brother. He didn't expect to her be so utterly charming, so lovely a man could lose himself just by staring into the sapphire depths of her eyes. Her face was not traditionally beautiful, but striking nevertheless, heart-shaped with clear luminescent skin, classic features and those wide, incredible eyes. Her body was small and slender, but well-formed and Gisborne longed to capture one of those delicate little hands in his just to study the tiny perfection of her fingers. She was enchanting, so much so that it made him nearly forget his purpose here, his hatred of her brother -- everything but the chance to get to know her better.

"Regina?" he sputtered in surprise, then caught himself. Wait. He couldn't address her like that; he didn't even know her. A dilemma he fully intended to remedy, but still. . .

Gathering his thoughts, he composed himself before continuing, "I mean, welcome home your ladyship."

The lady was still studying him with a wary look, tempered now with confusion. "You have me at a disadvantage sir," she spoke slowly. "You know my name, yet I still do not know yours."

"Forgive me. Sir Guy of Gisborne," he inclined his head slightly, "at your service."

"Sir Guy," she kept staring at him with those lovely blue eyes, making it hard for him to concentrate on her words, "you are an acquaintance of my brother's?"

Gisborne half-smiled at that. If she only knew. . . "Yes, we're acquainted."

She frowned, seeming unhappy with his choice of words. "I ask because I am wondering why you are here to greet me, instead of my brother," she said softly. "Has Robin been called away on some business? Is that why you are here, giving orders in his household, instead of he?"

Gisborne thought over how to address the topic. His good intentions flown out the window, he now had no intention of arresting her. Instead, his only thought was how to delay her irrevocably and turn her brother's situation to his advantage. Obviously, the best method was a half-truth, something that would clue her in on what to expect here in Locksley, yet disguise any involvement of his own in her brother's exiled status.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such ill news my lady," he said with a slight bow, "but your brother is no longer the lord in residence here at Locksley. I am its new owner now."

"That's impossible," Regina said with a bell-like laugh. "Oh sir, do not jest with me so. It's been a long journey and I am weary and cannot play such games. Please, do tell me where Robin is for I am greatly anxious to see him."

"I apologize my lady," Gisborne continued, forcing regret he didn't feel into his tone and keeping back his smirk with effort. "But every word I say is truth. Robin is not here. He has been outlawed."

At first, Regina only laughed all the more, clearly not believing him. But at length, the intensity of Gisborne's tone convinced her and she went completely white.

"No," she uttered, beginning to waver back and forth as if to faint. Gisborne, eager to play hero, leapt to her side to assist her. A casual hand on the small of her back, surely innocent enough to keep the lady from injuring herself. But he was denied his chance to touch her as another man, young but imposing, strode in through the open door, a small black case in one hand.

"Robin's hospitality has diminished of late," he scowled as he stomped in. "No footmen or butler to greet us and only a handful of stablehands to take the coach and luggage in. However, I managed to rescue your portmanteau Reg. I know how you like to keep it close—" he stopped short when he saw Regina and Gisborne and his brow grew dark when he saw how close Gisborne was standing. Instantly, he took Regina in his arms and gently settled her down on a nearby armchair until she assured him she'd regained her head again. Then he straightened to glare at Gisborne more fully.

"Who the hell are you?" he said, short and to the point. "And where's Robin?"

Gisborne stiffened, none too pleased with this interloper. Bad enough seeing his chances with Regina dashed just moments after meeting her -- of all the bloody rotten luck, of _course_ such a ravishing beauty already had a husband, he should have figured on that. But then he wasn't expecting to be so smitten with the lady himself. Still, he wasn't about to let this toff speak so to him, even if the other man was noticeably richer and nearly as tall as Gisborne himself.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne, the _new _Lord of Locksley," he sneered, then with narrowed eyes added, "and I might inquire the same of you." He was beginning to hope the man was related to Locksley in some way as they both had the same irritating effect on him. Granted, they didn't look a bit alike, but that proved nothing. He felt a surge of pleasure at the thought of hanging the two side-by-side, outlawry by proxy.

"Sebastian St. James, _Duke_ of _Wrothston_," Sebastian replied smugly. He made it clear he was enjoying rubbing the title in and Gisborne gritted his teeth with the knowledge that being a Duke, he couldn't afford to dismiss him so easily. "But you didn't answer my question, Guy. Where is Robin?"

"He isn't here," Gisborne replied darkly. He felt like glowering silently, but restrained himself with an effort. Damn bloody arrogant Duke. He'd dropped the 'sir' from Gisborne's name deliberately, just to rub in the differential of their ranks. While the last person Gisborne felt like giving answers to right then was the Duke, by feudal code he had no choice. "Robin of Locksley was outlawed less than three months ago. Since then he's been living in Sherwood with a group of rag-tag scoundrels he calls his 'merry lads'. Together, they've become a plague on the countryside, while I have been given guardianship over Locksley Manor in the meantime, soon to become the parish of Gisborne."

"Impossible," this outburst came from behind them, startling both men as their mutual turf war had nearly caused them to forget Regina. She leapt to her feet, looking furious. "This is an outrage. I demand to speak to the Sheriff immediately. I want to know what he is thinking, outlawing my brother. Such slander shall not go unpunished, I assure you."

"Calm yourself Reggie," Sebastian replied, still sizing up Gisborne distrustfully. "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this, once you've had a chance to calm down."

"I'm perfectly calm Sebastian and I am ready to deal with this now," Reggie affirmed. She started for the door, portmanteau in one hand and the other tossing her cloak around her shoulders. "We need to go to Nottingham at once and sort this matter out."

"T'would do you no good my lady," Gisborne replied, sulking over the familiarity between Regina and Sebastian. "Nothing can change the Sheriff's mind. You and your husband would be wasting your time."

"What?" Regina looked puzzled and glanced from Gisborne to Sebastian, not realizing the two were too busy glaring each other down to notice. Then the implication dawned on her and she giggled. "Oh Sebby's not my husband, good heavens no."

"Really?" Gisborne said, with interest.

"_Yet_," Sebastian growled in reply. Regina ignored them both in favor of the greater problem.

"The Sheriff will listen to me plead Robin's case. He's known me since I was a small girl. His daughter and I were playmates for years."

"Edward is no longer Sheriff at Nottingham my lady, and the new Sheriff has irrefutable proof of Robin's guilt. I'm afraid there is nothing that can save your brother from the noose now."

"This is ridiculous. Robin is a member in good standing of the Council of Nobles. Plus, our lands generate a considerable amount of revenue. I realize that Robin has not been present to tend them, but there is a war going on. He would have no need for thievery." Regina began to pace agitatedly, shaking her dark head all the while. "No, there must be some sort of dreadful mistake. My brother is no outlaw."

"But he is," Gisborne replied softly, not wishing to stir her anger. "It is unfortunate you have to find out this way, but it's true. Robin has released many dangerous criminals to freedom and stolen far more than just gold or baubles. I wish I could ease these burdens for you milady by giving you solace, but I'm afraid your brother is guilty of these crimes."

Regina was silent for a long moment. Sebastian stole a comforting arm around her shoulders, glowering at Gisborne for upsetting her, a move which turned Gisborne dark with jealousy and resentment. At some length, she spoke.

"I suppose then that I cannot stay here," she said slowly. "If Robin, for whatever reason, is not lord of Locksley anymore, than this is no longer my home."

Gisborne looked horrified. "Oh no Lady Regina," he said, thrusting out a staying hand and ignoring Sebastian's glare, "I didn't mean to ostracize you from your own house. Please be assured, my home is yours, for as long as you need it."

"Sir Guy I must. I couldn't impose," Reggie seemed not to notice Gisborne's hand on her arm, but Sebastian certainly did. With a noise that was more a growl than anything, he disentangled Gisborne's grip, nearly breaking his fingers off in the process.

"That's not necessary," he spit out, turquoise gaze ablaze. "Reggie will be returning with me to Sherring Cross. Then I'll be coming back to see about this whole thing with Robin. You can be sure that King Richard will be hearing about this the moment he steps foot back on English shore."

"Well, until that happens," Gisborne sneered back, "Robin of Locksley is still an outlaw! And that being the case, any friends or associates of his are under suspicion too."

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Sebastian hissed, hand falling to the sword strapped to his side. Gisborne stared the other man down, beat for beat.

"I think you know exactly what I am suggesting, Lord Duke of Worthless."

"That's Wrothston. And you'd better watch your tongue."

"Boy."

"Serf."

"Why you—" it might have come to blows, but Regina stepped back in.

"Gentlemen please, this is grave situation and we mustn't quarrel, not amongst ourselves. Robin is going to need our full support, the support of his friends, to get out of this and we must unite to help him." Her voice had an instant soothing effect and the tension slid out of the two men as their mutual attention was regained by Reggie. She smiled charmingly at them as she laid a hand on Gisborne's leather-clad arm.

"Sir Guy, we so appreciate your efforts on Robin's behalf -- but I'm afraid I simply couldn't stay here. It wouldn't be right, not without Robin here to chaperone. No, I shall simply have to go to Knighton Hall and plead my case to Marian. Surely she will let me stay with her, at least until this whole mess with Robin can be straightened out."

Gisborne would've given her the world right then if she'd asked for it. He laid his own gloved hand ontop of Reggie's happily. "Of course my dear. I have no doubt Lady Marian would be glad to receive you into her household."

"But Sebastian -- dear Sebastian, whatever shall I do with you?" Reggie turned to her friend, who arched a black brow at her. "It's disgraceful enough that I must insinuate myself on Marian's house -- I simply can't make her take you on too."

"Am I that bad, Reggie?" Sebastian asked with a grin. Reggie giggled.

"No of course not, silly boy. You are utterly charming and darling, but you know what I mean. Marian has enough to worry about without uninvited guests descending on her household and she simply doesn't know you. I cannot in good conscience expect her to just invite you along. But then, being no longer mistress here, I cannot invite you to stay at Locksley Manor either."

"Then you'll be returning to Sherring Cross?" Gisborne declared happily. He was growing more jealous by the moment, disgusted by the closeness shown between Sebastian and Regina, but unable to do anything about it as punching the young Duke's face in was hardly going to impress the lady fair. But hearing the Duke would have to return home was quickly putting the pleasant back into his day.

Sebastian glowered at Gisborne and folded his arms, a determined expression on his handsome face. "No I will not," he growled. "Even if I have to camp out in Lady Marian's backyard, I won't leave Reggie here alone. Especially with Robin unable to look after her. There's no way in hell I'm returning to Sherring Cross now, not without her."

"Aw Sebby, you're so sweet," Reggie beamed up at him. Then she turned an innocent look to Gisborne. "Sir Guy, I don't suppose you could find it in your heart to allow Sebastian a room here?"

"WHAT?" Mutual incredulous looks met Regina's, but she only smiled serenely.

"Oh please. I mean, the household is so large and all, plenty of room. And Sebby wouldn't be a bit of trouble. I'd be so appreciative -- please Sir Guy."

There was no one Gisborne wanted in his house less than the Duke, other than say Robin Hood, but Reggie's first please had him hooked and by the time she reached 'so appreciative' he could no sooner have said no to her than held back the ocean with a spoon.

"I'd be honored," he muttered, his tone saying exactly the opposite. Sebastian clapped his dark head with a wince, but Reggie beamed.

"Excellent. It's settled then. You gentlemen shall room here whilst I go see Marian. Sebastian, I expect I shall see you later. Sir Guy," she extended her hand to him and bewitched him with a warm glance, "it has been a pleasure. You sir, are a gentleman and I can see already that we shall be marvelous friends."

"I do hope so," Gisborne replied, bending to kiss her hand. "Indeed, I do hope so."

Regina smiled cordially and extracted her hand, then nodded to Sebastian. "Will you send someone to fetch the coach Sebby. I shan't tarry a moment longer, not when there are matters to be resolved."

Sebastian looked clearly out of sorts, but only nodded curtly and stalked off to find a footman. Reggie started to turn away, but Gisborne caught her arm.

"May I see you to your carriage, my lady?"

Regina blinked twice. "Why yes. How kind of you."

Within moments, the carriage was fetched, Reggie's luggage reloaded and the lady herself tucked in and sped away. The two men in her life stood watching as it pulled away and continued to stare until it moved out of sight. Then they glared at one another with an amnesty that could only have come from instant recognition of what the other man was --or in Gisborne's case, what wealth the other man had-- and the shared hatred that came of it.

"There's a wing upstairs on the east side," Gisborne told Sebastian shortly. "I'll send a maid up to see to it directly. Then I expect I won't be troubled by your presence again."

"Quite," Sebastian hissed, just as shortly and reached for his walking stick. Without a word, the two vanished into the house -- opposite sides of the house. But Gisborne knew things weren't over between him and the young Duke -- anymore than they'd concluded between himself and Hood's lovely sister. Oh yes, it was the perfect revenge. Win Regina, trump the smug Duke and Locksley with the same blow: it was utterly perfect. And this time, Gisborne didn't intend to lose. Not by a long shot!

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay on this, but Zeus alive I'm beginning to forget what having time to myself looks like. Not that it's gonna get any better soon, considering I'll soon have theatre to add to the frantic mix of projects. But I can't afford to babble now; got Christmas shopping with my sister to do (mine's finished, but she needs me to play chauffeur).

On a professional note though, I don't feel this was one of my better chapters -- but then I was pressed for time too. Tell me what you think -- & lemme know if there is still interest in this story so I know whether or not to continue. Always appreciate any feedback you can give me. Thanks!

-- Christy


	9. 8 :: A Mile In These Shoes

_Even if they try _  
_They still can't walk a mile in these shoes _  
_They couldn't even lace them up right _  
_Honey, these footsteps are too big to fill _  
_Ten million men can't walk a mile in these shoes _

**/ Jennifer Lopez -- Mile in These Shoes**

* * *

8.

Newark Castle: Nottinghamshire, England -- 1193

Though Rachel wouldn't know it, she was more accurate at predicting Katy than she'd guessed, when she'd made her remark about Katy rappeling with bedsheets.

For, as it turned out, there were indeed bedsheets that dangled out the high window and down the castle wall late that afternoon. Once the royal party reached Nottingham, Katy excused herself to go upstairs and 'rest'. And, being Katy, she didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse as she slid carefully down the impromptu rope of fine linen that she'd stripped from her bed, tied to the bedpost and fed through the narrow window. It was a long way down and Katy discovered about halfway into the journey that there was more wall than there were knotted sheets. She dared a glance below her as she evaluated her options.

1) Call for help. And be discovered hanging halfway down a wall for all the world to laugh at? No. Absolutely not. Which led to Option 2) Let go of the rope and drop the rest of the way down to the courtyard. It couldn't be more than eight, possibly ten feet, which left the prospect of broken bones, but a slim chance of death. Since that seemed reasonable, Katy tried to release the rope.

But her fingers didn't agree with her mind's position on the matter; they protested violently that _they_ could end up the broken bones in question and refused to relinquish the death grip on the sheet-rope and suggested calling for help or better still, climbing _back_ upward into the safety of the room. But Katy, stubborn to the end, wasn't about to let her fingers run things and so, shutting her eyes tight and bullying her reluctant fingers into submission, she let go.

_Ooof. _

Full contact with the hard dirt knocked the breath out of her, but she blessed her dressmakers for giving her yards and yards of sturdy, soft wool in her skirt for, other than a little bruising, she barely felt the blow. She stood, brushed the debris off and headed for the stables. It was somewhat telling to Katy's priorities that she'd barely been in Newark Castle for an hour and already she knew where the stables were located. But then she'd insisted, before being settled in herself, on making sure Peridan was comfortable first. There was no way she was going to stand for less than the best accommodations for her baby. Her horse was led into the stables, where it was admired and fawned over by the stablehands and not a few gentry as well, all of whom recognized good horseflesh. Peridan submitted to the attention with a pleased nicker, but his focus never strayed far from Katy, horse and mistress being closer than family.

"Peridan," Katy murmured, slipping into the stables now. It was dark and quiet inside, silence only broken by the occasional horse shifting its weight or snorting its interest in investigating the newcomer. The air was musty and heavy with the smells of hay and horse feed and slightly rotten manure. Katy squinted, looking for her horse through the dim light until a loud welcoming whinny pinpointed him for her.

"Peridan," she said happily, approaching the stall where her stallion waited. He whinnied again, cheerfully, and pressed his cold nose to her palm. He sniffed industriously, convinced that his lovely mistress would not be so ungracious as to visit without a juicy carrot or apple for him. Katy smiled and pressed her small forehead against his giant concaved one.

"I'm sorry baby," she whispered, rubbing his nose affectionately. "I didn't have time to grab you a treat, not that I could've carried it down with me if I had. But we are going for a little ride, you and I, and I promise once we get back you'll have earned all the treats you want."

She straightened and went looking for a saddle, not that she needed it; she was well accustomed to riding Peridan bareback. But in this instance, since her intention was to ride to Sherwood and retrieve what had been taken from her, she would need saddlebags to carry her jewels back in.

Damn highwaymen! What bloody nuisances they were! She should be enjoying her vacation, not traipsing off to the forest after a few bits of jewelry. But, if she was going to go after them, the time was now. The outlaws might expect her to send her bodyguards to tend to the matter, or possibly inform the Sheriff and let him tend to it. But Katy knew the last thing they'd ever suspect was one lone woman to sneak into the forest and nab the jewels back herself. No princess would ever concern herself with something so trivial; except Katy. The outlaws had tangled with the _wrong royalty _by God! And after this, they'd learn not to mess with this princess again!

The ride to Sherwood was relatively unremarkable. It took a bit of doing to get out of the gates unseen, but Katy had more than her share of practice with evading guards. She cloaked herself in an attempt to remain discreet, as if her horse wasn't remarkable enough to draw attention to them. Breeding like Peridan's was hard to miss, yet Katy couldn't bring herself to leave him behind.

Fortunately, the other advantage Peridan had was speed and as the forest melted around and flew past her at dizzying speeds, Katy felt no fear of anyone being able to tail them. Once they were well in, she slowed up and dismounted. Richard had, on occasion, allowed her to tag along with his hunting parties, much to the chagrin of her other siblings. He taught her how read subtle tells which showed, not only which direction other hunting parties were moving, but the hidden trails animals would take to avoid them. Richard was one of the finest trackers in all England and he'd instructed his baby sister well. Though pains had been taken to disguise the outlaws tracks, and the sheer size of ground to cover and number of other animals crossing made it difficult to pinpoint who went where, Katy was able to decipher human movement among the thickly carpeted undergrowth.

Picking her way along, Katy slunk through the rich greenery, taking great care to move soundlessly as well as swiftly. She heard the outlaws before she saw them; heard the murmurs of voices pierced with raucous laughter and smelled a faint waft of meat, most likely rabbit or quail, being roasted slowly. She came to a halt and waved Peridan to be silent as she pressed on ahead. Peridan lowered his intelligent head, as if in understanding, and calmly waited right where she placed him. He sniffed the undergrowth thoughtfully as Katy moved on, as if he were sure that there had to be a patch of wild carrots growing just out of sight, naturally with his name on it.

Then Katy saw the curling smoke of the fire and rough tent of tanned, coarsely sewn rawhide strung between four solid, thick-hewn wood posts. She crept in, careful to stay unseen, well hidden by the verdent greenery all around. The closer she moved the more she heard the outlaws cajoling each other, quite in a jovial mood.

_And why shouldn't they be? _Katy thought to herself furiously. _It's not like the morning cost them a single tuppence. Embarrassing royalty, theiving priceless jewels. It's all in a days work for 'Robin Hood', isn't it?_

The more she thought about, the more furious she grew. She didn't want just the jewels back. She wanted _revenge. _She wanted to curtail their criminal activities once and for all. She wanted to make _them_ _pay_ for a change, on behalf of all the innocents they robbed.

She eased into their encampment, careful to stay well out of sight. Every step was measured, her feet soft and silent on the thickly-carpeted forest floor. She slipped behind the disguised enclosure and edged her way along until she found an opening in the makeshift walls and climbed inside, where she began to root through the outlaws meager possessions without shame, searching for her jewelry.

Surely it had to be here. They couldn't have disposed of the jewels that quickly. There wasn't time for them to have been sold or traded, and it was doubtful anyone nearby would have the money necessary for them to be pawned for their full value. But for a moment, Katy didn't see them and it worried her. Until she finally glimpsed them tucked in a bag in one corner of the tent.

"Ah," she murmured, stealing closer. The jewels left out in the open, not even a guard in sight. She tsked lightly. "Inattentive thieves make for _bankrupt_ thieves."

She scooped up the bag --and that proved to be the last thing she did. One moment she had the jewels in hand; the next she was viewing the world from a perpendicular angle, and her feet were posed somewhere above her head. Katy sputtered, struggling frantically against yards of thick, coarsely-woven netting, which held her tangled in its massive folds despite her efforts. Also, a loud clanging forced its way into Katy's consciousness. It was an irritating and repetitive sound and as Katy listened, she realized it was coming from a frying pan hanging from the ceiling. Someone had rigged it so that a large tin spoon banged against it repeatedly when the trap was triggered. Katy glared at the device, but it didn't stop clanging until the outlaws trooped in.

The one in the forefront appeared to be their leader. He was handsome, slight of frame and fair of countenance, with dark, windswept hair, sunkissed features and a grizzly, clefted chin. He was garbed in earthy tones of muted browns and greens, with a tattletale 'hood' attached to the back of his tunic. He had a longbow strapped to his back and its curvaceous design was unusual; it was unlike any Katy had glimpsed before, including her own. The fine craftsmanship of the bow was unmistakable however, even though the corresponding arrows were crude and obviously handmade; this was the weapon of a man who knew how to use it. He had to be the 'Robin Hood' that Katy had encountered earlier, the outlaw who thought so highly of himself he believed he could just whisk off the crown jewels without retaliation. He stood before her straight and proud, feet wide-spread, hands braced on hips and he looked far too smug by half.

"Well, what have here lads?" he chortled. "Set a trap for a Sheriff's man and we've caught instead--?" he paused reflectively and his mouth curled up at the ends like tendrils of smoke rising from a camp fire.

"Let me down from here," Katy demanded as haughtily as she could, considering the circumstances. And considering that her hair had slipped out of its snood and was cascading everywhere --and that ankles were currently somewhere in the vicinity of her neck. Robin arched a brow at her imperious tone.

"--we caught something lovely," he concluded, "lovely indeed, but not t'all sweetly tempered." He smirked at Katy then, his generous grin widening as he clearly was enjoying her predicament. "Have a care, young maid," he advised her. "You were quite 'caught in the act' and considering your thievery, your foul tongue does no compliment to your fair face."

"Take a care upon _yourself_," Katy retorted. "For you, sir, were the thieves first and foremost, and thus 'tis you who are far fouler than am I!"

She tossed her head with as much dignity as she could muster, and tried not to notice the errant strands feathering across her forehead. She probably looked like a dilapidated sow, but she squared her shoulders as regally as any princess. She resolved she was not in the least charmed by his winsome smile. Not after he tangled her up in this vile, smelly contraption and now saw fit to rub her nose in it. Huh. So what if he were handsome? So were a great deal many more men, and most were enraptured by her besides. She had the kings of the world at her feet --of what did she need a common, two-pence rogue, even if he were charming? Barely. Humph. Nay, affected by him she was not.

"Is that so?" Robin countered. He tilted his head slightly and purred, "but mayhap you have a point, milady. After all, we Sherwood lads would not fancy to be perceived as ungracious."

"Ungracious?" Katy scoffed. "Nay, nothing so agreeable as that –you lot are nigh well _barbarians_! Stringing me up from the ceiling, like common fishmongers displaying their wares. Well sirs, I am neither flounder nor halibet!" She practically had to shout to be heard over the persistent clanging.

"Quite," Robin gave her a terse nod, then turned to one of his minions standing attentively beside him. "Will, for pity's sake, can you silence that infernal device?"

Will, a tall, slender youth whose dark eyes had rested on Robin through this entire exchange, now nodded and moved to disable the makeshift alarm. His clothing was simple but clean, all tan save for a dash of color, a green neckerchief tied at the nape of his neck. His hair was dark, short and closely capped and he bore the stirrings of manhood in his lightly grown moustache and goatee. He carried a small axe with decisive familiarity, which he now shifted to one fist as he untwisted something at the base of the alarm with the other, ceasing the noise instantly. In the reigning silence, Katy found herself abruptly able to think again. Robin nodded to two others, one tall as the stars and thickly built, leaning on a quarter-staff spanning even higher than he was; the other a redhead with a quick manner and mischief dancing in his vivid blue eyes. They both stepped forward and released the catches holding the net up, allowing Katy to tumble down somewhat less than gracefully until she landed at their feet.

"And now milady," Robin continued, ignoring Katy's gasp of surprise, "if you'd be so good as to explain what you are doing here?"

"If I'd be so good as—" Katy echoed, weakly, breathlessly. Her eyes narrowed, her lips thinned with annoyance and she felt anger surge within her breast, filling her to the edges with fury. "Why yes. I shall."

In a blur of motion, faster than even Allan's quick eyes could catch, she was righted on her feet, her bow unstrapped from her back and an arrow notched in place.

"Brigands! Villains! Do not move! As it happens," she said, taking a few cautious steps back, "I am merely taking back that which you stole to begin with and taking the jewels back to their rightful owner. 'Righting a wrong with a right', as it were. And you should count yourselves lucky that I--that _the_ _princess_ saw fit not to get her brother Prince John involved. Now, if _'you'd be so good'_ as to hand me those jewels," she gestured to the bag, then nodded her head at Robin, "yes _you_, the _brash_ one, hand the bag to me. After disentangling it from the trip wires first, of course. Oh --and no heroics, _Robin_, unless you wish to drink ale from your gullet rather than your lips."

Robin bent to do as instructed, but his eyes never left Katy's. "Stand down men," he cautioned. He carefully extracted the bag of jewelry from the trap while the other outlaws slowly lowered their weapons. True, they outnumbered her six to one, but she had her bow trained on Robin now, and there was not a man (or woman, in case of Djaq) among them willing to risk their leader's life. Katy watched them all like a hawk, but particularly Robin. She had an innate sense that here was a man who daily defied death and encouraged reckless heroics. It was a grim stand-off but Much, offended by what he perceived as a betrayal, couldn't resist putting his two cents in.

"This is _outrageous_," the forthright man proclaimed. "How dare you rob us? _Us_? And in broad daylight?"

"Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds?" Katy asked, diverting her focus from Robin but for a moment --but a moment was all it took.

Swish. _TWANG_!

Faster than a flash of light, Robin had the Saracan bow off his back, aimed and ready. He didn't give her an opportunity to lock back on him; instead he fired and the arrow grazed her right hand, wickedly stinging her fingertips.

"OW!" Katy swore and lost her grip on her bow. Outlaws hit the floor as her arrow went wild; zipping past Allan's tufted head and swooping around so it barely missed nicking Little John's grizzled face. It ricocheted around on of the tin pots Much had hanging on the wall, then came about for another deadly flight before embedding itself in one of the camp structure's support posts. The outlaws, save for Robin who stood fearlessly and Katy who was too frozen with surprise to move, all exchanged glances from ground level. They weren't entirely sure if it was safe to get up yet or not.

"Cor," Allan said, sounding awed. "That was close, wot it?"

Little John, who was next to him, shot him an exasperated look and stood. He reached out to take Katy's wrists. They were so small and delicate he could easily restrain her with one hand. Or so he _thought_ --right up until Katy kicked him hard in the shin. He never imagined a ladies shoe could be so pointy, or that _painful_.

He howled and released her as Katy fumbled again for her bow. But Robin, with striking-rattler reflexes, caught her first and, learning from Little John's mistake, quickly moved his limb out of the vicinity of her footwear.

"Not so fast, m'dear," he murmured. "I'm afraid we simply cannot allow you those jewels back. Besides the slur on our infallible reputation, the good poor of Nottingham, Nettlestone, Locksley and Clun would be quite disappointed."

Katy glowered. "They don't _belong_ to you," she bit out. "They belong to m--to Princess Katherine and the Royal Family of England! When you rob her, you rob _England itself_!" Fists braced on hips, she stared hard at the outlaws, condemning them with sharp emerald rapiers.

"Have you no shame? No love for your country at t'all? How can you defile her so and still face yourselves each night? I should be too ashamed to walk the streets amongst my kinsmen were I in your position," she shook her shining head, her voice growing thick with emotion. "If you can live as lawless as you do and hold no shame for it, then may God have mercy on your wretched souls!"

"Do not speak of what you know nothing," Robin's reply was equally sharp, though it was hard to tell what he took the most offense at. "What we do is _for_ England; for the good of her people and for her protection. The King is away and in his absence, truly evil men plot foul deeds. Prince John cares nothing for the true plight of England, or about its people. It's because of his selfishness that the poor suffer as they do. To them, we _are_ England."

Katy stiffened. True, she didn't like John, barely tolerated him most of the time actually. But he was still family. Damned if she was going to let a bunch of rag-tag vagabonds in Sherwood speak so against her brother.

"Careful," she hissed at Robin. "Every word that emerges from your lips is treason --and could see you hanged!"

"We are already condemned men, milady," Robin's response was quiet, pensive, even reflective. Not at all what Katy expected it to be.

"We are men without families, without homes, and hunted and persecuted without cause. We live simple lives; etching out an existence in hunger, bitter cold and exposure, solely because of our _devotion_ to England! You think my men have not suffered—" he waved a hand at the other outlaws, "--look _around_ you! They've lost homes, jobs, family. They've withstood charges of outlawry, attempted hangings, imprisonment, lynchings, torture and hunger, all for the sake of following me. I assure you; they have _suffered_ and sacrificed more than I have words to confess, even though they are _innocent_ men."

He tightened his grip on her slightly, his fingers matching the intensity of his words. His eyes shot blue sparks at her.

"If we were filching this gold for ourselves, don't you think we'd have selected better conditions by which to spend it? It is clear what we are about, milady. Only true patriotism could inspire such loyalty." He stood a little straighter to proclaim, "We are men devoted to country and to King Richard's safe return, may God grant it. We are men in hope of something greater than what our lives now can tell. And we are men who love our neighbors, friends and families enough to suffer these things so that they don't have to." He nodded to the outlaws, each respectively. "Every man you see here before you is a hero, milady. Well—" he smiled when he got to Djaq, "--every man and _woman_, that is. We _are_ England. And—" he added with a tiny smile, "--we are, each to a man, 'Robin Hood' in our hearts."

He ended his long speech just as solemnly as he began it, but now there was a hint of mischief in his eyes when he added, "dear lady, can you not see? Your love is England. Our love too is England. Though our methods might be different, if perhaps—" he smirked at the bow still in her hand, "--not _that_ different, we are still fighting for the same England. We are in fact on the _same_ _side_."

Katy froze, heart thumping in her chest. Was it true? Were they in fact fighting on the same side? This forest rogue, with silver tongue and twinkling eyes, was he playing her like a lute or was he speaking so much truth --she had not the discernment to tell. He certainly made a convincing case; far too convincing she felt for it to be anything _but_ true. And Katy had noticed, upon her ride into Nottingham, just how poor the denizens had appeared. She had not witnessed such poverty and dismal conditions before. Her rides through London were rare and always through affluent communities. She wasn't used to the swarms of ragged beggars she'd seen on Nottingham's streets; those lucky enough to be dressed baring a hodge-podge assemblage of worn clothes less fitted to size than mere availability. And everyone she'd seen looked hungry and thin. Too thin, not a portly or stout body among the lot. Some of the children, it broke her heart to recall, were naught but mere stick figures. And the many she'd seen with crutches, makeshift limbs, missing anatomy or deformities or illnesses --it truly made her realize how sheltered she'd been, locked away in a keep in London for all her life. How could all this suffering and corruption be going on, right under Richard's nose, and him not here to put forth a stop to it? It had outraged Katy, once she'd taken notice of the shameful state of affairs and she tried at once to address the Sheriff about it, shortly after she'd arrived, got the coach unloaded and seen Peridan settled in. But Vasay refused to go into it, treating Katy with a condescending manner that really irked her.

"Don't worry your pretty head about the poor, missie," he'd advised with a shark-like smile which revealed all teeth and absolutely no humor.

"They are supposed to be poor; it's their purpose. And if you were to go around, heart bleeding over every sniveling peasant you saw," his lip curled into a sneer, as if he thought of something distasteful, "nothing would ever get done."

"But surely a strong, secure England means prosperity for all—" Katy tried to argue, but Vasay cut her off.

"We are at _war_, missie --and in war there are always causalities, hmm? Unfortunate, but you can't let it keep you up nights." The Sheriff certainly didn't look as if it'd been keeping _him_ up nights. He looked well-nourished and slightly over-rested, unlike the rest of Nottingham. "Now, shall we go over the preparations for your welcome party, hmm?"

Katy bit back a sharp reply. She desperately wanted to tell this jack-ass of a sheriff off. She wanted to bristle over his mistreatment of the people he was supposed to be serving and protecting --and his blatant dismissal of her concerns. She wanted to take exception to his calling her "missie" --she was a royal Princess by God, not some swineherd's daughter-- and warn him not to trivialize her just because she was a woman. If her brother Richard were back in England, he'd never allow such a man like this to become Sheriff. There was truly no justice while her brother Richard was away.

But she kept silent. She couldn't afford to antagonize John now; not on her very first stop out of London, not on a 'good-will tour' meant to raise money and extended morale for Richard. Not if she didn't expect to be toted back to Westminster for her sins. And she'd already tempted John's wrath once, by sending half her guard on ahead to Nottingham without her, despite the wishes of his personal courtier. Not that she was, for even one moment, contemplating telling John about the robbery in Sherwood Forest. Oh _hell_ no! That would get her brought back to John's palace so fast even Peridan wouldn't be able to keep up with the change in scenery.

That was why she'd come to retrieve the jewels, quietly, by herself. She hadn't mentioned the robbery to Vasay and she'd already ordered her guards not to breathe a world of what transpired in the forest. She made the mess and she'd take care of it herself. But perhaps this 'Robin Hood' had a point. If the Sheriff were as crooked and the people as impoverished as they seemed, and this Robin was speaking true by his claim to be assisting them, maybe they were _indeed_ on the same side! The evidence to support what he said was strong; while the Sheriff wallowed in opulence at the castle in Nottingham, seeming to want for nothing, these men were living in the basest of simplicity, poorer even than the poor they assisted. If these men had stolen gold for their own nefarious purposes, they'd surely have moved onto another wealthy Shire by now, or at least set themselves up in a finer state than this.

"Indulge me a curiosity, your ladyship," Robin was still holding her shoulders loosely. His eyes bore into her, their intensity unmistakable, "Why would they send _you_? If the princess wanted her jewels back, shouldn't a regime of her personal guard be paying us a visit?"

This was quite correct, although Katy was nowhere near going to admit it.

"Nobody _sent_ me," she snapped. "I just don't care for my mistress being unjustly robbed, 'tis all!"

"Indeed?" Robin returned. "And who are you to the princess to take such liberties on her behalf?"

"I—am—am—" Katy sputtered, fumbling for a suitable fib. She rallied, recovering her composure and hoped she wasn't blushing as she lied smoothly, "I'm the princess's lady-in-waiting, of course!"

"What's your _name_?" Robin pressed, with a knowing smirk. Katy glowered at him.

"I don't see how that's any of _your_ business."

"Well, I generally like to know who it is that I am accosting. And with all the excitement, we somehow bypassed the formal introduction."

"Very well," Katy capitulated with ill grace. "My name is—" there was a slight hesitation, discernable only to those who might be watching for it, "—Rachel. I have been the princess's lady-in-waiting for four years now."

"Well _Rachel_," there was a slight emphasis to the way Robin said the name, as if he didn't quite believe her. "Why would you decide to take upon yourself a task worthy of at least twelve armed men?"

"Twelve," Katy near choked on the word. "You do think highly of yourself, Lord Outlaw, don't you?"

"We've defeated six of her Highness's Royal Guard already," Robin pointed out logically. "Twelve is not an undue estimation."

Katy sniffed. "That may be true. But a single well-aimed arrow can bring a man to his knees." She fingered her bow meaningfully. Robin's face brightened as he shot her a cheeky grin.

"As can a beautiful woman," he murmured, a tad flirtatiously. The look in his eyes now was warm, approving. "But, even doubly armed as you are m'dear, here I still stand before you."

Katy fought back a blush. "Regardless," she replied tartly, "I came here of my own accord, as I said before."

"But why would your princess allow that? Has she no heed for your safety as to allow you to do such a thing? If we were in fact the lawless men you believed us to be at first, your life would be in grave jeopardy if you'd tried to rob us."

"I didn't wish to trouble her with my decision. She is unaware that I am here," Katy's reply was quite truthful and yet untruthful at the same time. While it was true that Rachel was not made aware of Katy's decision to confront the outlaws on her own; the fact that their identities had been switched was something Katy was keeping strictly to herself.

"I thought as much," Robin nodded. He released his grip on her and stepped back, nodding to his men to indicate they were to lower their weapons. "It was, if not _wise_, at least a _brave_ thing you did. You were only being loyal to your ladyship, and that is a sentiment we can well appreciate. You are free to go now, milady."

To her surprise, he took the jewels and handed her the bag, shooting her a roguish grin with it.

"I can see you are a loyal subject of King Richard, just as we are. And if you think these jewels would be better served adoring his sister's ears and wrists then feeding and clothing his people, then by all means: take them and give them back to your princess. Be loyal, just and true, as all valiant servants of Richard the Lionheart should be." He bowed low before her, as regally as any courtier as Katy had ever witnessed.

Katy's gaze dropped to the glittering gems in her hand. She'd gotten them back, just as she'd wished, but the feeling of triumph was short-lived. It gave away now to pangs of guilt and loneliness. She thought of the small, pale, too-thin faces of the starving children she'd seen while riding through Nottingham. She looked at the men in front of her; saw their care-worn faces and hard, lean, chiseled bodies, hewn from too much exertion and too little rest. Her thoughts then wandered to her brother Richard, struggling in the Holy Land, sacrificing blood like water to bring peace there –and suddenly she realized she was presented here with an opportunity to do something for the brother who loved her AND England so that he was laying down his _life_ for them, by the grace of God!

These jewels were given to her by Richard, as property of England; well that made them hers right? Possession being nine tenths of the law and such? Or at least, that made her the arbiter of them, correct? And this was _for_ England and _for_ Richard! For the people he loved more than he loved his own life! So it was clear to Katy now just what she needed to do.

"Nay," she replied softly, pressing the jewels back into Robin's hands. "Give them to the poor and the hungry. The princess has many jewels, but her brother's people can not be replaced so easily as a handful of shiny stones."

"Are you sure," Much burst out, the first outlaw besides Robin to speak in quite some time. The others were merely watching the exchange with interest, and often, surprise. "What if the princess grows angry at you?"

Katy smiled as kindly as she could at the excitable little man. "She will not be angry. As far as she knows, some rogues in Sherwood Forest absconded with a few trinkets."

"That's us lads," Robin grinned proudly as the other outlaws all exchanged grins as well, which Katy herself finally shared.

"But even if she knew, she'd not be angry," the unbeknownst-to-them princess herself finished. "She would realize it was a sacrifice for the good of his Majesty's people –and in that knowledge, she'd be only too happy to help. She is as loyal to her brother as are you—" Katy's voice tremored with emotion and she tried to steady it, but couldn't quite keep the tears from her eyes, "—she really misses him very much. He was always very wonderful to her and she hopes he'll come home. Soon."

"I'm sure," Robin said softly. He reached for her hand and held it for a moment before releasing it. "We all hunger for the King's return milady. Tell your Ladyship that her gift to the poor is most generously accepted and that her people thank her from the bottom of our hearts."

Katy smiled, looking a bit comical through her tears, but beautiful nonetheless for it was genuine. "You are all _heroes_ indeed," she said softly, her lips curling upward. "I should think the princess would like you, were she ever to meet you someday. I will tell her of your brave deeds."

"Not to spoil the moment," Djaq interrupted then and her voice sounded concerned. "But there is something outside and it's presently trying to eat our campsite."

Katy followed the other woman's pointing finger and began to giggle. Peridan had become quite bored of waiting for his mistress to return and had wandered off to find her on his own and was now, as Djaq pointed out, nibbling on the various resident greenery, to find out if it was as flavorful as well as colorful. Katy started in his direction and, ducking carefully out of the tent first, she reached out to grab his halter.

"I guess that's a good a cue as any to make my exit," she said cheerfully, stringing her bow on her back again. "He grows impatient and so do I. There is must to do before evening for a princess new to the court, I'm afraid, and she'll be in great need of my assistance." She swung up on Peridan's back and waved to them all.

"Fair well, my new friends, and may you continue in all your good works until King Richard's safe return."

The others all waved back, but Robin put a staying hand to Peridan's side, preventing her departure.

"Milady, will we see you again?" he asked softly, low enough that none but the princess could hear him. Katy smiled down at him.

"Mayhap so, Lord Outlaw," she said, in a merry tone. "But—" she indicated the bow behind her and added sternly, "—rob my Ladyship again and pray that you do not!"

With that, she pulled away and Peridan picked up speed and within minutes, the two were lost from view amongst the trees.

* * *

**A/N:** My friends and loyal readers, I apologize for the long, long delay on this chapter. It was not my intent to leave things this long, but life and indeed, even fictional life, rarely turns out as one expects. I wish I could relay the entire story here and now for you, but alas, I am stressed, angry and quite tired as well --not 'normal' tired, but that hollow _hard_ kind of tired that comes after you've cried yourself out and have no tears left to shed, just emptiness-- all which makes for poor recapping, so it will have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, please accept my apologies and if you would be so good, an uplifting word would not go amiss. Now, I think moreso than _ever_, I need a little encouragement for my spirits could sink no lower than they have at present.

-- Christy


	10. 9 :: Cinderella

_don't want to be like Cinderella  
__sitting in a dark, cold, dusty cellar  
__waiting for someone to come & set me free  
__don't want to be like Sleeping Beauty  
__don't need a prince to come & save me  
__don't want to depend on someone else  
__i'd rather rescue _myself_. . . _

**/ The Cheetah Girls -- Cinderella**

* * *

9.

Newark Castle: Nottinghamshire, England -- 1193

"I've never been to a royal ball before, Sebby."

This Regina confided in hushed tones as she collided with her childhood friend on the steps of Newark Castle. Marian, accompanied by her father, had already stepped inside, but Regina lingered after the introductions to talk with Sebastian, for she hadn't seen him since he took up residence at Locksley. Sebastian whistled approvingly at Regina's fine gown of aquamarine trimmed in lavish silver and he twirled her around for a better look.

"Reg, you look fine," he assured her warmly, "I'll have to bring my sword along just to challenge all the smitten, impudent suitors vying for your hand." At Reggie's remark however, he chuckled and tucked her tiny hand into his arm.

"Don't worry. I've been to _dozens_ of these silly affairs, whenever Father would entertain at Sherring Cross," he assured her as they climbed the steps and entered into the main keep. "They were all the same: Dull! Some hoity-toity from London or thereabouts would come visit and we'd all drink watered-down ale and eat silly food on tiny sticks and mill about like a bunch of gossipy _women_," here Sebastian wrinkled his nose as if the very thought disgusted him, "and the very royal whats-their-breeches would be much fussed over because they are rich, even though, thanks to all the in-breeding, they are usually as smart as a bowl of yogurt."

Sebastian shook his coal-black head, a smile tilting the edges of his lips. "Take this princess for example. Why I bet she has a face like a turnip."

Regina started to giggle. "Sebby, you are _horrible_," she giggled, with mingled awe and delight. "That's such a wicked thing to say! You can't say such things about a _princess_!"

"I don't see why not," Sebastian grumbled. "As an 'up and coming Duke', the highest noble present, I'll be the one obligated to dance with Princess Turnip all night in the absence of my father. All I can say is I hope her feet aren't bigger than mine."

Sebastian then pretended to be twirling an imaginary woman around in his arms, though based on the placement of them his imaginary woman had enough girth for two women.

"Pardon me madam," he said in a mock-solemn tone, "but it appears I have trodden on your foot. Oh—my—that was just your _toe_?" Sebastian's genuine expression of horror made Regina giggle all the more.

"Sebastian St. James! You stop that!" she chortled. "Now when I actually see the princess, I shan't be able to help myself for thinking of naught but her enormous feet."

Sebastian waddled around then, sticking his own feet out to the sides and parading in front of Reggie as he announced in a high falsetto, "I'm Princess Katherine of England," he lifted the edges of his tunic like a skirt and dropped a comical curtsey, but he wobbled back and forth so awful, like a woman struggled to keep her balance despite an inadequate weight transference that Reggie feared he'd topple over. But Sebastian held his balance with marvelous poise and shot Reggie a silly grin as he trilled, "Pleased to meet you, m'dear."

"Sebby, please do stop," Regina could hardly stand now, she was laughing so hard. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she lifted a hand to brush them clear as she confessed, "I know I shan't be able to look at the princess now for fear of laughing like this. She'll probably think I'm quite daft."

"Oh now Reg," Sebastian smiled charmingly at her, straightening back to his full, impressive height, "I promise you, no one could think such things about you, m'dear." He tucked her hand back in his arm and led her along the hall then, taking care to match his long strides to her delicate steps. "I'm quite sure the princess will adore you, as does everyone."

"I hope so," Reggie smiled wistfully, "I'd like us to be friends. Besides, it doesn't matter what a person looks like on the outside. She could be a very lovely person all the same, Sebastian."

Sebastian snorted. "Unlikely," he grumbled again, "usually these noble twits as just as spoiled as they are ugly." He stopped, seeming to recollect that, as a Duke, he fell under the category of 'noble twit', so he finished with a cheeky grin, "present company excluded of course."

Regina smiled at him. "Ah, dear Sebastian. What ever would I do without you to lift my spirits? I do wish Robin were here though," she sighed deeply, her eyes turning the dark blue of stormy skies and wave-tossed seas, "I worry about him, not knowing where he is or if he's safe. With this ridiculous charge of outlawry, they might have done all sorts of dreadful things to him and here I didn't even know about it. I wish I knew if he were alright."

She sounded miserable and Sebastian quickly dropped a consoling arm around her shoulders. "Don't fret, Reggie. I'm sure he's fine. Robin is the sort who can take care of himself in such circumstances." He hugged her tighter, his voice soothing.

"Remember how accurate he was with a long-bow, even when we were children? He can protect himself just fine Reg, you know that. Why, there was scarcely an animal or bird anywhere near Locksley which did not know to avoid Robin while he was taking aim."

This won a small smile from Regina as she pictured the scene in her head. "Aye, you boys were all shades of mischief when you were young," she agreed, and added teasingly, "not that you've improved much for age. Lucky you had me along, to bail you and Robin out of all the trouble you caused."

Sebastian nodded angelically at her.

"We'd never have survived boyhood without you," he affirmed, and while still supporting her he added, "Robin's lucky to have you for a sister, Reg. Don't doubt it. And I rather always thought of you as one myself. So don't fret. With you back in Locksley now to look after Robin, what harm could possibly befall him?"

Regina beamed at him. "Sebastian, sometimes you do say the most wonderful things. And since you've opened the topic dear boy, how _are_ you getting on at Locksley?"

This caused a frown to darken Sebastian's handsome face. "A fair sight better once Robin is back in residence," he grumbled, "I can say that I care little for the company of my current host. The man is a genuine bad egg Reggie, and mark my words, he'll be properly sorted out once Robin returns."

"Shh, Seb," Regina chastised him, "you shouldn't speak ill of one who has been so kind to you. He took you in --and he didn't have to! You are no relation to the Locksley name and for that he could have shown you the door, but he was hospitable to a fellow lord and that," Reggie finished with smug satisfaction, "shows the mark of a true gentleman."

Sebastian frowned at her. "Now Reggie, don't go wrapping your mind around _him_. I'd not care to have to disown my favorite sister and all, 'specially since we just established that's what you were to me. Adopted like."

Reggie laughed, not taking him seriously for a moment. "Oh Seb, you'd never disown me. We both know that."

"Maybe." Sebastian still looked disgruntled. "But I'm not about to let you throw yourself away on a bounder like that either. Good God Reggie, haven't you any taste t'all?"

"Sebastian St. James!"

"I mean it," Sebastian jutted out his strong jaw firmly. "I don't mind telling you that in Robin's absence, I'll be the one protecting you Reg. And if Gisborne makes so much as a move towards you, I'll turn the rotter into a portmanteau and hang him on your arm!"

"Sebby, you are an idiot," Regina couldn't help giggling, "but I do love you so, for all of that."

"A man couldn't ask for more," Sebastian agreed as he led her on down the grand staircase and into the great hall. The palace was bedecked with the opulent air of one to whom grand parties were not merely a pastime, but a career choice. The swirl of lavish, brightly-colored skirts, beads and brocade worn by the ladies matched the fine breeches and tunics donned by the men. The overall effect was more resplendent than a parade of peacocks, each noble present was girded to the hilt to impress the visiting royalty. Reggie wasn't sure if her simple gown --designed in a becoming aquamarine and beset minimally with matching stones-- was much to compare with the finery around her. But she thought loyally to herself that, of all the gentlemen present, Sebastian was by far the handsomest among them.

"Save me a dance, won't you Sebby?"

Sebastian bowed low. "Enchanted, m'dear," he replied, then his roving eye spotted something behind her.

"FOOD!" he chortled. Releasing Regina's arm, he made a bee-line for the refreshment table. Regina watched him go, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Ugh. Men. They were all just overgrown boys, really.

She turned away, and then something caught the corner of her eye. There was movement just outside the line of her vision. Regina turned her head, trying to focus. She could have sworn she saw someone slip behind one of the sentry pillars of the room just at the second she tried to identify them. She stared harder at the support, almost certain that the shadow behind it was a little deeper, as if someone was standing in it. She might have gone to investigate, but Gisborne chose that moment to appear. He materialized at her elbow with a glass of wine and a determined expression. Regina noticed that in a swirling sea of color elsewhere, Gisborne was dressed from head to toe still in somber black. In the parade of fashionable peacocks, he was the brooding raven.

"May I fetch a repast for you, milady," he invited, balancing his glass carefully in one hand so that his other could lightly touch her elbow. Regina nodded, but with reluctance.

"That's very kind of you," she began, but broke off when she espied a flash of forest green and her eyes darted past him. _There it was again!_ She'd swear there was someone back there, ducking from column to column at the edge of the room, as if they were avoiding being seen.

"What is it, milady?" Now Gisborne turned to look. But Regina touched his arm to regain his attention and smiled.

"Oh, it's nothing, Sir Guy. I just thought for a moment that—"

Whatever she might have said next was lost as Sebastian chose that moment to interrupt. After noticing that Gisborne was in attendance to Reggie, he came striding back over, albeit this time with a full plate.

"Reggie," he said, light and brisk while he insinuated himself between the two. The plate teetered slightly from the force of the movement, but a tumbling apple was deftly rescued before hitting the floor by Sebastian's sharp reflexes. "Gisborne," he added, his tone a touch cooler. He bit into the apple and chewed industriously, all the while staring down Gisborne with dark, glittering turquoise eyes that dared the other man to try something while he was standing right there.

Gisborne stiffened. It was a staring match between the two a moment before Gisborne answered.

"My lord." Resentment peeked through every cold syllable. Sebastian stared down his long nose at Gisborne and took another healthy bite, every inch of him oozing smugness.

"I don't mind telling you Gisborne," he said, waving his apple around as he spoke, "that in the absence of Robin, I am in fact Reggie's legal guardian. So, if _you_ are harvesting any ideas towards _my_ _ward_," he ignored Reggie's gasp and the tattletale way Gisborne's ears and face were reddening, "then I'll be damned if—"

Luckily that incendiary statement wasn't finished either, for it was drowned out by the sound of a blaring trumpet. A burst of fanfare, then a crier dressed in the Sheriff's coat of arms stepped forward.

"Announcing the arrival of his Excellency, Sir Vasay, the Honourable Sheriff of Nottingham; and of our esteemed guest, her Royal Highness, Princess Katherine of England."

Amidst the polite applause, Reggie found that she was some jockeying for a clear view of the princess, as the whole crowd was pressing close together now to try and catch a glimpse of her. At length, Reggie was finally able to spot her. It took some doing and a little maneuvering until she could peek through two taller men's heads, but she saw the princess finally, standing at the top of the stairs on the arm of the Sheriff. Reggie's mouth fell open in silent admiration. _Ye Gods! That was the princess?!_

Katherine was everything a princess should be. She looked every inch of one, both regal and breathtakingly beautiful beyond description. She looked as if she belonged in a big picture book of fairytales, alongside handsome knights, princes and dragons. She was just too lovely, with her two-tonal locks of fiery red and gold and eyes clear as emeralds. Her gown was as red as her hair, trimmed in equally fiery rubies and a gold and ruby-set circlet crowned her delicate brow. More rubies and gold swung from her earlobes, adorned her wrists and a ruby pendant rich enough to knock out an elephant dangled from her slender neck. The girl was impressively beautiful, but even more so, impressively _rich_. Rich indeed! Regina knew that and her title alone were enough to make her attentions sought after, but now, NOW, looking like _that_ – the poor girl would not be afforded a moment's peace from noble suitors here in Nottingham!

Yet in those flawless green eyes, Reggie saw a sparkle of warmth, a hint of mischief that made her want to get to know the princess better. She looked like a merry chum for all that she was royalty and Reggie instinctively felt like she _knew_ her, even though they had not as yet met. There was a way about Katherine that was utterly disarming. She turned to find Sebastian, intending to comment on this, mayhap even to tease for she well recalled his earlier remarks about "royally big feet" and even bigger egos. But she didn't look Sebastian straight in the face as she nudged him; her attention was still on the fair princess.

"Oh Sebby! Isn't she marvelous?!"

There was no response. Surprised, Regina finally looked up into Sebastian's face and noticed he was frozen on the spot. His lips were parted slightly, his intense turquoise gaze affixed to the princess. And in his eyes, Reggie saw a raw, hot light, and a look that she'd never seen on Sebastian before.

"Sebastian!" she nudged him harder this time, enough to stir him though it made no impression in his rock-solid frame.

"Hmm?"

"You're staring," Reggie remarked, a tad reproachfully.

"Am I?" Sebastian sounded like he was far away. Regina nodded.

"Yes, dear boy, and its rather rude. What will she think of us?" She reached out and took his arm instead. "Let's get closer so we can meet her, shall we? She seems perfectly lovely to me."

_Unlike that awful Sheriff_, Reggie finished, but only in the privacy of her own thoughts. She wasn't entirely sure why Vasay struck her wrong while Katherine only served to impress her, for again none of them had been formally introduced yet. But that horrid little man, with his weaselly eyes and too-wide toothy grin, already had her bad side for what he'd done to Robin.

How dare he outlaw her beloved brother? Regina entirely wasn't sure what the offense was –hadn't Gisborne mentioned something about theft or some other such nonsense?-- but whatever it might be, surely it could have been handled without pronouncing sentence of outlawry on him. That was _not_ how proper noblemen handled such things!

Reggie could see already that this Sheriff Vasay was the worst sort; a bounder and a cad most likely, but moreover he was "_no_ _gentleman"_, a grievous sin which Reggie personally considered near as wicked as puppy drowning. If it was some matter of money, or honor of some sort, Reggie was sure she could resolve it. All it'd take was a cool head and a woman's voice of reason. As much as she loved her brother, she had to admit Robin could sometimes be rather hot-headed. Stubborn too. He wasn't the best person to discuss matters with certainly, having more a natural tendency to reach for his bow rather than his diplomacy. But Reggie was convinced, if there was a spark of reason t'all in this beastly Sheriff, they could come to an amiable resolution.

Regina was so occupied with her thoughts that she only half-heard Sebastian's response to her earlier remark.

"Yes. I think we _should_ meet the princess, Reg."

"The 'turnip-faced' one?" Reggie couldn't have stopped herself for all the world. But Sebastian didn't even seem to notice.

"Yes, come along Reggie."

He stepped forward, barely seeming to notice if Regina followed. But before he made it a full step, the princess, who meanwhile began to descend the wide stone staircase on Vasay's arm to the hall below, abruptly lost her shoe. It slipped off her foot and tumbled down the staircase ahead of them, the delicate, beaded slipper making almost no noise at all, but it still seemed thunderous in the reigning silence of the audience's sudden embarrassment. A roomful of red faces stared up at the princess, everyone desperately trying to affect a blank look which read: 'Shoe? What shoe? I didn't see any shoe.' A few guards leapt to action, but Princess Katherine held up a hand.

"Leave it," she commanded and the guards froze. The whole room held its breath together and conversation stilled. Everyone was wondering together: 'What happens now? Who would rescue the fallen footwear?'

Before anyone could react other than with surprise, the princess sat her silk-clad derrière down on the banister of the staircase, and what she did next no one could've possibly anticipated. She slid, _expertly_ in fact, as if practiced, down the banister and hopped off easily at the bottom without a sign of disorientation. She scooped up the fallen shoe, shoved it back on her foot and patted her skirts back into place. Then, polite as you please, she walked up to the closest dumbfounded bystander and shook their hand firmly.

"Hullo. I am Princess Katherine from London and you are—?" she left the space open for him to fill. The man's jaw dropped open as he managed to stutter out a response.

"Uh, uh—S-sir Angus of Saffron, your Highness."

This seemed to break the spell. Everyone started breathing again. And as the slow murmur of voices began rising again to a pleasant party hubbub, only those listening very closely could have heard the princess mutter to herself, "John'll _kill_ me when he hears about this, but— _DAMN_ that was fun!"

Reggie's blue eyes widened as she witnessed all this. She beamed as she proclaimed, "Oh, how _brilliant_! Isn't she marvelous, Sebby? Already I _love_ her!"

"Me _too_."

Instantly amused, Regina turned to face Sebastian fully. "Sebastian darling," she chided, "do you realize that you're drooling?"

Absentmindedly Sebastian ran the sleeve of his royal blue tunic along the edge of his firm jaw, but his eyes never deviated from his rapt study of the princess. Only now he looked fascinated rather than just intense, and Regina couldn't recall ever seeing him so lost in admiration over anyone before.

"Marvelous isn't the _word_, Reg," he breathed, "there simply isn't a word quite suitable enough for her! She's—she's just so—" he broke off, sounding a bit breathless.

"I know. _Marvelous_," Regina teased him, with a bright smile, "I must give her full marks for originality. I've never seen an entrance like that, not at any formal affair I've ever attended. Course, I've never met a real princess before either," she teased, "so it might be a common occurrence. Mayhap all royalty enter a room that way?"

When Sebastian didn't respond --in fact, she wondered if he even heard her at all-- she giggled and took his arm.

"Well that clinches it Sebby. We must introduce ourselves immediately," she said, nodding to where the receiving line was already forming over by the princess –and it promised to be a long one! By now Vasay and his guards had totted down the stairs and joined Princess Katherine as she began politely receiving the nobles who had attended her welcoming celebration. All the nobles were bound by the code of chivalry to greet both Katherine and Vasay, as her host, but this was the first time Reggie had seen anyone looking forward to it or witnessed a receiving line fill up that quickly. Even the buffet table was abandoned in lieu of the beautiful and utterly fascinating princess.

"We shall simply have to snag a place in line. I cannot wait to meet in her!"

"Me too!" That fervent exclamation was all Sebastian seemed capable of. "Me. Too."

* * *

Katy was bored. Although some of the looks she'd received when she mounted that banister ought to serve to amuse her for a fortnight, it may well have worked had she been granted some time alone to savor them. Alas, that killjoy of a Sheriff put her right in the receiving line after him. And though some of the more merry citizens might have otherwise remarked on Katy's unconventional entrance, the Sheriff's sarcastic responses and sharp looks served to dampen even the most buoyant of spirits before they reached her. It was a frightfully dull process, particularly with the Sheriff's eagle eye on her, and hardly any time had passed at all before Katy grew restless. The receiving line stretched like the endless night before her, long, dismal and gloomy. Katy shifted from foot to foot, dying for a chance to escape her formal responsibilities, if only for a moment.

"Lord Sheriff," she hissed as a dispute in the line called a guard's attention and left the two nobles free for a moment, "a respite, please. I simply must take some air."

"There's air in here," the Sheriff replied and inhaled deeply, as if to prove a point, "see. Breathe in, breathe out. It's simple really. And you have so many party guests to greet." He waved a heavily jeweled hand at the long cluster of people watching them from behind the row of guards preventing anyone from coming too close or trying to forcefully better their place in the queue.

"Look at the bloody idiots, hmm? All so eager to meet the pretty princess who loses shoes before midnight and contrary to some famous stories, performs her own daring rescue rather than waiting on some mothy prince." He half-turned, enough so she could see the smirk etched above the fur lining of his stand-up collar. "Mayhap they'll get to smell your pretty perfume, even get a little kissie on the hand, hmm? Wouldn't want to disappoint all those fat, but _rich_ war supporters for your dearly beloved _brother_." The way the Sheriff said the word 'brother' made it sound like an insult. Katy found herself bristling.

"I won't disappoint them. I promise," Katy made a 'crossed-heart' gesture, then added, "but all these people are stifling the air, Sheriff."

_And most smell like they've never heard of a bath, _she added but only mentally. Katy had very forward views on things like hygiene; having found that she personally looked, as well as smelled, so much better if she took a bath to clean herself whenever she got dirty. But she was aware that most of the general populace didn't share her modern views, insisting that bathing frequently was unhygienic and actually hazardous to one's health, in terms of illnesses and other negative repercussions. Katy viewed that outlook as utterly ridiculous. An independent spirit who insisted on forming her own views, Katy took hers from fact and observation, not mindless superstition. The evidence was overwhelmingly clear. She'd never been sick a day in her life, unlike many who _didn't_ bathe regularly and went on to contract plague or other horrid diseases. And frankly she felt it was more likely to cause trouble walking about with grime clinging to all one's bits, rather than just do a little industrious scrubbing and have done with it.

In fact, Katy had even come to enjoy her baths. A good soak in heated water on a frosty winter night soothed muscles she didn't even know she had and put her right to sleep like a baby. She was even able to turn her favorite brother Richard on to frequent bathing, after describing how good and relaxing a long soak felt.

"It's really very _close_ in here, Sheriff," she continued, trying surreptitiously to hold her nose as one particularly ripe specimen drifted a bit too near. "I _need_ to step outside a moment. I'm feeling rather light-headed."

"Light-headed, hmm?" The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. "Is that self-induced asphyxiation by subliminal suggestion, Your Highness?"

"Do you want me to faint?" Katy's voice had an edge to it. The Sheriff scowled.

"You _would_ make a scene, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, _most_ _definitely_!" Katy swayed a little, for effect. "I'm dizzy; sooo dizzy!"

"I could order a guard to prop you up, hmm? You don't have to be conscious to look decorative," the Sheriff leered at her. "The guard wouldn't mind; he'd even _enjoy_ it."

Katy smiled at him. "That'd only make it even more embarrassing."

A quick glance around proved her right. After taking in the concerned looks on all his fellow noble's faces, the Sheriff relented, albeit with reluctance.

"Very well," he grumbled and snapped his fingers. "Guard! Her Highness needs a bit of fresh air; see her up to the battlements. As for the rest of you," he nodded to the minstrels in the corner, who hastily tuned their instruments, "enjoy the party. Dance, eat, be merry for a bit, hmm?"

As he strode off one way, Katy followed her escort up the enclosed staircase that led up and out. Once free of the dank, narrow walls, she leaned against the balustrade and took in a few grateful gulps of air. Then she turned and nodded tersely to the guard.

"You are dismissed."

"But Your Hi—"

"Nay," Katy cut in. "I would like to take my peace alone. You can watch from the door, to ensure I am undisturbed if you like, though I'd be hard-pressed to say who could find me up here anyway."

The guard was then reluctantly ushered along and Katy finally found herself alone where she could think. It was a welcome relief, especially considering all that she had on her mind. She felt like her thoughts were on fire, plagued by unfamiliar worries and for once in her life, Katy was unsure how to progress. She wanted to help her brother and the people of Nottingham –but more and more she wondered how she could possibly do that. When she gave her jewels to that outlaw in Sherwood, she truly believed she was taking a step in the right direction. The poverty and despair she read on the faces of the people of Nottingham sickened her and she wondered privately what kind of greedy monster could feel no guilt and party like a rock star in the face of such suffering. She knew already that Prince John cared nothing for any of these people, but that their own Sheriff could be so cold. . . Katy barely repressed a shudder as the full realization struck her. This was what all of England would become, if Richard were not brought home. Evil and corruption would flourish so long as John remained in power. King Richard _had_ to return, not just for England, but for all their sakes.

Katy was so lost in her thoughts that she quite failed to hear the man come up behind her until he spoke.

"Well, if it isn't the maid 'Rachel'?"

Katy pirouetted slowly, her face contorting to a scowl. Robin smirked as he circled her slowly, taking in every detail of her lavish dress, expensive jewelry and most importantly, the gold circlet around her fiery head. No mere maid could afford to dress as she had, and even a noblewoman would not dare to bear a crown, unless she was of royal blood. Her clothes gave her identity away and there was no escaping the truth now of who Katy _really_ was. And Katy knew, with one look in Robin's eyes, that the clever outlaw had not mistaken it. In fact, his eyes told her he'd known all along.

"Mighty fine togs, milady," he drawled, still circling like an encroaching hawk on its luncheon, "but mayhap in the royal household, even the _maids_ can afford to dress like _princesses_?"

Katy glowered at him. "What do you want, Lord Outlaw? Come to rob me again, have you?"

"Ah, Princess Katherine, I presume?" At Katy's glare, he chuckled. "I would not dream of robbing a princess so fair she outshines her gown and so brave she rides against nigh a dozen outlaws to rescue _herself_." His gaze swept her up and down with blatant amusement.

"Tell me, do you keep that bow of yours hidden somewhere among those silken skirts?"

"Save your blandishments; I'm not impressed," Katy snapped. "Furthermore, I despise 'Katherine'. It's Katy to my friends, a distinction which you have not as yet obtained, and 'Your Highness' suits the rest of the world."

"I don't know why you insist upon keeping such formalities between us, 'Your Highness'," Robin mocked her tone, "after all we've been through together I'd think we'd be past all of that."

Katy sighed. "As I said before, what do you _want_ of me? Is there a purpose to your visit, other than to ridicule me of course?"

"Ridicule you? Princess, nothing could be further from my thoughts." He edged closer to Katy, his voice dropping an octave. "But I _am_ here for a purpose, milady. To talk to you. I need your help."

"Oh you need _my_ help?" Now it was Katy who sounded mocking. "And do tell me Lord Outlaw, what can I, a humble princess, possibly do to help you?"

"With any luck, you can get a message to your brother for me," Robin's answer was quiet. He was dead serious now. "Let him know how dire things are in England in his absence. I've tried on numerous occasions to reach the King myself, but the Sheriff always manages to thwart my attempts. In London, you have access to more resources than do I. A lonely princess writing to her dear, brave brother in a war overseas; why your letter will hardly even be noticed. Yet you can tell the King things the rest of us cannot."

"It is not so easy as all that," Katy warned. "John watches me like a hawk. He knows I find his actions suspect, and that I would tell Richard immediately if I had any real proof of foul play. I do not trust John, but as of this moment I cannot stop him either."

"You _must_ find a way, milady," Robin said softly. "King Richard is England's only hope and you, dear lady, are _our_ only hope of reaching him in time. You must send off a messenger as soon as you get back to London and tell the King of what your prince brother, Sheriff Vasay and the other sheriffs like him have been up to. Unless the King learns of the danger back home, he will not hasten his return here."

"I can't promise anything," Katy replied, "but I'll do what I can."

"That's the most we could ask for," Robin replied and with that, his warm blue eyes met hers, green and verdant as Sherwood itself. "Thank you Princess."

Katy rewarded him with a quick, radiant smile. "For England, Lord Outlaw. For England."

Their conversation was interrupted by a voice from the stairs.

"The princess is taking some air, sire."

"I know that, you blithering oaf! Now out of my way!" The Sheriff's sharp, caustic tone cut in and Robin immediately ducked for cover. Unfortunately, the only place to hide on the narrow walkway was over the wall. Much to Katy's surprise, that is exactly where he went, leaping out of sight just as the Sheriff ascended into view. Katy managed to mask her surprise and appeared staring straight ahead as the Sheriff came up beside her.

"Had enough air yet, m'dear? You have room enough in those skirts of yours you could carry some downstairs for later," the Sheriff quipped, eyeing her voluminous ball gown. Katy turned to face him, knowing that to prevaricate now would only draw more suspicion. Besides, Robin couldn't hang on to the side of the castle for too much longer. If he didn't lose his grip, he was sure to be spotted by the Sheriff's guards.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

"Well come along then," the Sheriff turned back towards the stairs, "and let's greet your adoring public, shall we?"

In a notably short moment, Katy found herself whisked downstairs and back into the receiving line again. Right at the forefront, Katy was surprised to find a lively group who actually seemed worth the introduction. Though a dour-faced man in black neoprene stood glowering at the back, Katy thought the handsome young lord and lovely maiden with him had potential. They couldn't be from Nottingham; they seemed both well-bred and well-travelled. Katy surveyed them with interest as they moved closer.

First the young lord, for it was apparent he was a noble --and a very _wealthy_ one if the cut of his elegant clothes was any judge-- was _indeed_ handsome! Nearly too much so, with eyes not so much blue or green, but some bewitching shade right in between. He wore his unruly black hair natural, so that it curved in deep waves across his broad forehead, not slicked back like some men. His teeth flashed white as he smiled at her and Katy felt her heart trip a little at his generous smile. Really, she thought to herself annoyed, he shouldn't have a smile like that, not with the strong, jutting jaw and long lean body he had besides. One had to draw the line somewhere, and if it were drawn for "most outrageously good looking man in the room", it'd be drawn in a tight outline around him. The girl standing next to him was just as attractive, with her wide blue eyes and warm smile, but there was something oddly familiar about that smile; something that Katy couldn't quite put her finger on. It was like she'd seen it someplace— or maybe on _someone_ before, quite _recently_.

"Your Highness, what an honor," the young lady strode forward with that and took Katy's hand to drop into an eager curtsey.

"I'm Regina of Locksley, and this is Sebastian St. James, the Duke of Wrothston," she nodded to "Sir Handsome" on her left, "we are both thrilled to make your acquaintance, Your Highness."

Despite herself, Katy's eyes strayed back to Sebastian. He'd said nothing for himself, but he was watching her with an expression in his mesmerizing eyes she could only term as _wicked_. Calling forth a smile of her own, Katy urged the girl Regina back up to her feet.

"The honor is mine, Lady Regina," she said reassuringly, "I hope I shall get to visit with you more before my departure."

Regina beamed in a way that made Katy smile and it demonstrated the girl was looking just as forward to it as she was. Then Katy turned the smile on Sebastian, but had a difficult time concentrating. Lord, he really _was_ too handsome! She found it a little hard to focus or think clearly while staring into those intense eyes. "Lord St. James," she said politely, "a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine," his voice was deep and his reply trite, but his tone left no doubts to his sincerity. Katy blushed slightly and averted her eyes to regain her equilibrium.

"You flatter me, Your Grace."

"Not at all, Your Highness."

_My, my, aren't we proper all of a sudden?_ Katy couldn't figure why she'd resorted to using formal titles when she outranked even the young Duke, but she felt just the slightest bit unnerved speaking to him. And this was very unusual for Katy, who never allowed anyone from the time she was small, to unsettle her.

"Will I get to visit with you more before my departure?" Sebastian asked this softly when Katy grew quiet. "Or is that a special privilege reserved for Reggie alone?"

Katy started to blush. Good God! The handsome Duke was _flirting_ with her! This came somewhat of a shock to Katy, who had been flirted with before certainly, but not usually so blatantly— her lofty title had a tendency to intimidate men who were not her social equals and Katy's forthright manner did the rest. And, at any case, she never took any notice of it. But in the case of Sebastian, she found his charm quite impossible to ignore.

_Not the only man whose charm has got to you lately. . ._

_Oh shut up!_ Katy told her subconscious sternly. She didn't even like that impudent forest rogue, let alone care if _he_ flirted with her. So why did he suddenly come upon her thoughts as if his silly flattery even mattered to her? Katy sniffed. It didn't—_he_ didn't matter to her per se, it was just probably the connection that he too was a shameless flirt that did it. And it would seem he was equally as unimpressed by her princess title as Sebastian was.

"No I—I—" she began, but never completed the thought. Just over Sebastian's left shoulder, she saw a flash of green. Her eyes sharpened. She stared intently until—yes, there he was! Moving swift and silent in the back of the room, darting behind furnishings as convenient, Katy never would have spotted him if not for accidentally glancing that way just as he moved. Katy frowned. What in the world was that fool doing in here? Was he trying to get himself killed?

"No?" Sebastian inquired softly, noting Katy's frown. Katy blushed.

"I mean—yes—of course you—I—it—would be a pleasure," she murmured, recalling with difficulty what the topic was. Her interest was still keenly focused on the view over Sebastian's shoulder and this proved to be a mistake as both Sebastian and Regina both swung around to look. At first it was hard to see him, half-hidden in the shadows of a hanging tapestry which was conveniently dark green. But as their eyes both adjusted and made out the shape of a man, Regina suddenly gasped aloud.

"Robin?"

Robin looked up sharply at that. He was distracted, unaware he'd been spotted and Regina gasped again as he did, recognizing her brother faster than anyone. Her eyes widened with shock, then brightened with pleasure. Sebastian too began to smile, but Robin not so much so.

"_Regina_?" he whispered, but didn't have time to react further as the Sheriff spotted him and waved frantically at the guards.

"Hood?! Guards! GUARDS! GET HIM!"

"Regina—" Robin took a step towards them, heedless of the guards attacking, but a smaller shadow separated itself from the tapestry, invisible until just then. A slight, distinctly feminine shadow.

"Robin," the Saracen woman demanded, "c'mon!"

"But Reg—!"

"We don't have _TIME_!" Djaq insisted and yanked Robin's arm, bringing up a knee as well as the first of the guards reached them. A harsh kick to the groin brought down the first guard easy, but more were on the way, brandishing swords and yelling excitably as was the custom of guards everywhere. Djaq yanked free her sword, while Robin notched an arrow to his bow, but distractedly.

Meanwhile Regina too being held back across the room. Sebastian's strong arm came around her, impeding her as she tried to rush to Robin. She also was heedless of the advancing, heavily-weaponed palace guard between them.

"Robin! _ROBIN_!"

"Reggie no," Sebastian's voice cut in, firm and unyielding. "You can't."

Regina struggled. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"Leave off, Reggie," he ordered, his grip only tightening. "You can't help Robin like this. It's not the right time. Leave off!"

Katy, watching first outraged, then furious, snapped to action as the guards behind her also ran forward to assist.

"Whoops, can't _imagine_ how that happened," she murmured as an outstretched, be-slippered foot sent one guard tumbling to the hard, flagstone floor, then sent another howling, hopping and grabbing a foot as that same sharply-pointed slipper was mashed firmly down on his instep.

"I'm _so_ very sorry about that. Forgive me, do."

"As am I," Sebastian added, taking his cue from Katy. He brought his fist sharply up and back across his muscled shoulder to connect with a third guard's nose, setting it to bleeding. Then somehow, whilst stumbling away proffering apologies, he managed to collide bodily with a fourth guard and firmly elbow a fifth right in the solar-plexus, putting them both out of commission.

"Uh-oh! _Clumsy_ me," he murmured while his strong arms protectively cushioned Regina away from the blows. Regina, however, was not so circumspect as they both were.

Without so much as a word to anyone, she pulled away from Sebastian and reached for one of the dessert plates from a side table, and stretching up impossibly high for her height, she slammed it right against the temple of a sixth guard, so hard the plate cracked from the blow. The guard went down instantly and Sebastian and Katy both stared down at the tall, heavily-armed, prone figure, then at little Reggie in some surprise. Regina, fierce and formidable in an itty-bitty 5 foot package, ignored them both and glowered at the unmoving guard, anger burning in those sweet blue eyes.

"Stay _THE HELL_ away from my brother!"

Katy and Sebastian exchanged quick glances. Not the safest nor the subtlest of moves, but fortunately the Sheriff didn't notice, so intent was he on Hood and Djaq. Gisborne did, but it was clear he wasn't going to breathe a word, the way he was staring at Regina awestruck. Hood and Djaq were putting up a good fight; they were near surrounded but the threesome's quick intervention had greatly improved the odds in their favor.

"_GISBORNE_!" the Sheriff bellowed, swinging around to find his second-in-command as his guards failed to be effective. Gisborne tore his eyes from Regina, but it was already too late. Robin pinned one guard to the wall by neatly hooking an arrow through a hole in the man's chainmail, while Djaq head-butted the last guard with the flat of her sword, knocking him out.

"Robin, let's go," she urged, nearly having to physically drag the wiry outlaw away. Robin spared just a moment to look directly into his sister's eyes, a look of devotion and deep apology, then his eyes slid to Sebastian and held a question. _Will you look after her until my return?_ His gaze pleaded, though he spoke not a word. Sebastian held his gaze firm, his answer unmistakable.

_I will._

With that, Robin turned to Djaq and the two beat a hasty retreat. One of the guards on top of the pile-up started to stir, dizzily trying to make it to his feet and reaching for the tail of Robin's tunic. But to his surprise, he got a dainty shoe straight to the face before he could get a grip on the outlaw and as he fell back again on top of a few other prone bodies, he heard a cherry-sweet voice purr, "Oh I didn't see you there."

Marian beamed serenely down at her handiwork, late to the ass-kicking party but not about to be left out of it. She glanced back up, exchanged a smug glance with Regina, their unspoken sisterhood bonded in Robin's defense passing in the satisfied glimmer shining in two pairs of lovely dark blue eyes. Regina picked up the train of her skirt and, with a haughty air that would have done a princess proud, she walked over to her childhood friend, managing to trod _on_ the fallen guards far more than necessary, and took Marian's arm.

"_There_ you are dear," she said in warm, ringing tones, ignoring the groaning men below as if they were invisible. "I was just about to look for you. Shall we get some cake?"

"Delighted," Marian smiled back at Regina and the two proceeded arm-in-arm towards the buffet table, much to the fury of the Sheriff. He raged, looking for someone to blame, but Regina's nonchalance had broken the spell and slowly the party resumed as if nothing had happened. Katy stepped back in the receiving line and deftly edged the still-furious Vasay back as well.

"My dear Sheriff, _our_ _public _awaits us," she said, staring at him with wide, innocent eyes. The Sheriff fumed, but had no choice but to start the receiving line up again where they left off. His beady eyes narrowed on Gisborne as the scapegoat, noting the other man had chosen not to pursue Hood.

"This is _your_ _fault_, Gisborne," he hissed, glaring. "You let Hood escape! _Again_!"

Gisborne looked into two pairs of eyes watching him, one set clear emerald and amused, the other jeweled turquoise and utterly smug, and he just sighed. "Yes, My Lord."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Hood to brandish a sign that says 'Follow me'?" The Sheriff sneered at him. "Get after him, Gisborne!"

Gisborne nodded. "Yes, My Lord." He snapped his fingers at the groaning masses at his ankles and growled, "Get up you lot!" as the sheepish guards struggled to their feet. After a little milling about in which the guards found their weapons, located their comrades and did a quick check-up to see which of their bits were still intact, Gisborne led about half out of the hall as the others took up their positions by Katy and the Sheriff. Katy paid them no mind however, nor did she think about what she was saying to the nobles who passed her in the receiving line. Her words were coming out on auto-pilot as her mind raced with questions over the scene she had just witnessed.

Whoever this outlaw was, he was not a commoner. Katy would wager her prized Peridan on that! He spoke too well, carried himself with stature and breeding, and won, not only the princess, but the wealthy Duke of Wrothston and his lovely escort on his side. He was a nobleman, a lord, mayhap an impoverished one which might have driven the man to a desperate act or two –but since when did noble lords resort to thievery and outlawry _for the sake of the poor? _(as the case could certainly be made that many a noble subsisted on thievery by _legal _means) It was a conundrum and a baffling one at that.

No less so was the question of what was Lady Regina doing there without him and why did they seem to be so surprised to see one another; for they were related, brother and sister. After Regina's outburst, that much was made blatantly clear. Yet here they'd seemed worlds apart and as if they didn't expect to see the other t'all! At first when they'd all met, Katy had puzzled over Regina's familiarity, unable to pinpoint why the girl struck such a chord. But now, seeing Robin and her in a room together, it would be plain to see they were connected even without the way they fought to get to one another. Regina bore his laughing eyes and his mischievous, winsome smile. Even the way she cocked her head to one side, simple of an inflection as it was, pert and not a little arrogant, was uncannily the same. Not that Katy noticed this so much, why she barely remembered the details of—of him at all of course but—but—Katy shook her head a little to clear it.

At any rate, this was a fine mystery and Katy could feel excitement stir at finding answers to the many questions that had arisen since coming to Nottingham. She and Regina were going to need a long talk about the mysterious and benevolent "Lord Outlaw". 'Prince Charming' he did seem to be, but Katy had to wonder was he a prince among men –or merely a clever 'Prince of Thieves'?

* * *

**A/N: **You can find the latest news & chp EST's on my profile page. Also of note, and as mentioned on my profile page as well, I'm in the market for a beta reader for this fic. My _usual_ is tied up right now. Not a paying gig, but you will get an exclusive look at new chps, have access to spoilers & plot twists before they are written, plus I do occasionally let my betas nag for new chps too. (smiles) Might even get a special _character appearance _in a forthcoming chp or two (& dear Sebastian is still _single_, ya know.) so if you are interested, just PM me.

& a reminder on the time-line: This is set in the _first season _of Robin Hood, a month or so tops after the season finale. So no second season twists in this story. I have toyed with the idea of writing a "sequel" to MOS, which would include second season's Allan-a-Dale betrayal, because I like the concept of playing with that fictionally. But it remains to be seen what's done with MOS first. Still, as we stand on the advent of season (or series) 3 now in '09, I felt it was worth re-mentioning.

Peeps who review go to heaven! Ta!

-- C


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